Big Time Disaster
by Fish Stick Friday
Summary: Camille's father is also her best friend. From the moment he saw his daughter run up to Logan and tackle him after shooting the music video for 'The City Is Ours,' Camille's father didn't like Logan. What does this mean for Logan and Camille?
1. Father's Stamp of Disapproval

**A/N: So, the inspiration for this story came from watching the latest installment of BTR, Big Time Video. **

**Disclaimer: Nickelodeon owns Big Time Rush. I am not affiliated with Nickelodeon. Therefore, I do not own Big Time Rush. **

**Big Time Disaster**

_Father's Stamp of Disapproval_

_Logan's POV_

I couldn't believe my ears. It's not that there was anything wrong with my hearing. My hearing was fine. It's just that I was in shock—complete and utter shock. Camille had just told me that she wanted me to come over for dinner so that I could meet her father—officially. This was happening too fast. Was this really happening? I mean are Camille and I even a couple yet? We're friends. I know that much. However, she's also friends with Kendall, James, and Carlos, and I don't see them invited over to Camille's place for dinner.

Meeting the parents. That was huge. I was freaking out to say the least. The truth of the matter was that I never got to the stage in a relationship where I actually met a girl's parents. Camille lived with her father here in Los Angeles. Her mother is alive and well. They just didn't have enough money for all three of them to move to Los Angeles in order for Camille to pursue her lifelong dream of becoming an actress. Kind of like how my parents were back in Minnesota while I was pursuing my—well, helping James pursue _his_ dream.

"Uh…Camille, don't you think it's a little too soon for me to meet your dad?" I asked before squeezing my eyes shut and holding my hands up in defense to protect my face.

I braced myself for the sting of a Camille slap, but there was none. I was rather surprised. I slowly opened one eye, and then the other. She didn't even look coiled to spring.

"Yeah, but I think me tackling you after we finished shooting your music video kind of speeded things up. I mean he already suspects that you and I are an item, but I think I need to explain to him _why_ I tackled you," Camille replied.

I noticed her cheeks flush after she brought up the memory of her tackling me after our music video shoot. I felt my cheeks heat up, and I was sure that now we were both blushing.

"Great, so send him an e-mail or text. Tell him over the phone or in person. I just don't see why I have to be dragged into the equation, over dinner no less," I said, muttering the last part about dinner.

Camille laughed. "Logan, what are you so afraid of?"

Swell. Now the girl I liked was laughing at me.

"Believe it or not, I've never actually met a girl's parents before," I answered, hanging my head in shame.

She gave me a warm smile. Just like that, every last hint of shame disappeared from my face. It was uncanny how such a simple gesture could invoke such a response from me. Methinks it was only because _she_ was the one giving me a warm smile. It was part of the hold she has on me.

"Well, I've never had a boy I like meet my dad before," Camille stated.

If memory serves me correctly, she has never been asked out before. This means that she's new to relationships. This means that I'm her first. That was one fact that I took great pride in. Camille's mother was back in Connecticut. She was an only child, so it was just her and her father in L.A. From what I've learned about her, she was definitely a daddy's girl. That only made me more nervous about meeting her father—officially.

"I already met your dad at the music video shoot. Remember?" I asked. I figured it was worth a shot.

"Yeah, but that hardly counts as an official meeting. I never actually introduced you to him or him to you. He just saw me run up to you and tackle you, and then he left," Camille responded.

There was the blush again on her face. She wasn't the only one either. I've been tackled by a lot of girls since I've come to Hollywood; probably more than any of the other guys. There were the Dak Zevon groupies who mistakenly thought I was their teen heartthrob when I foolishly held a picture of him up to my face not once but twice. Then, there were those girls at a Phoebe Nachee math lecture who discovered I wasn't a real girl though I was dressed up like one. Well, they didn't so much discover the truth about my identity as I revealed it to them in a fit of rage after seeing how sexist my _former_ crush truly was. When it came to Camille tackling me though, she can tackle me anytime she wants. At least with her, she doesn't have any malicious intent. At least with her, she's not intentionally trying to cause me bodily harm.

"What if he doesn't like me?" I inquired, voicing my greatest fear.

Camille frowned. No, I hated it when she frowned. I preferred her to be happy and smiling that hypnotizing smile of hers. I swear I could get lost in her smile.

"Well, if that happens, which it won't, I guess that's it for you and me," she answered.

"W-what? W-why?" I stammered, incredulously.

"Logan, my dad's basically my best friend. I respect and value his opinion, and if he doesn't think you're right for me, then I have to listen to him."

I swallowed a lump that was beginning to form in my throat. Great. It's not like meeting Camille's dad wasn't nerve wracking enough before she gave me this insight. She gave me what was probably supposed to be a reassuring smile. I wasn't fooled though. It seemed awfully forced to me, and not at all like her smiles usually are.

"Like I said before though, that won't happen though. I like you and once my dad sees that, I'm sure that he'll like you too," Camille remarked.

"Famous last words," I thought to myself.

XXXXX

Later on, I found myself inside Camille's apartment for the first time. She had been living at the Palm Woods for over three months, but I had never actually been to her place before. She had been to my place though. Several times. I found that quite odd.

"Nice place you have here," I commented to Camille's father.

"It's a hotel. All the rooms look the same," Camille's dad replied, giving me a disapproving look.

"Dad!" Camille exclaimed.

Well, at least she was coming to my aid. Not that it really made much of a difference. It was quite clear that Camille's father didn't approve of me. Nothing I said or did would change that. It was probably pretty pointless for me to actually stay for dinner.

"So Camille tells me you play hockey," Camille's father stated.

I noticed that there was no emotion in his tone of voice whatsoever. It was completely monotone, like one of those teachers at school who puts you to sleep just by giving a lecture. Not that I ever slept in class though. Carlos maybe, but me never. Honestly. Ask anyone.

"Yep. It's kind of how Kendall, James, Carlos, and I met," I replied.

"I detest hockey," Camille's dad remarked.

So much for finding common ground. I thought when he asked me about hockey that he was a hockey fan or used to play himself or something.

"I hear you're pretty smart," Camille's father said.

"I guess you could say that," I replied. I didn't want to boast or anything after all.

"You can't be too smart throwing your future away all in an attempt to become famous by being a part of a boy band. I loathe boy bands. Always have. Always will," Camille's dad commented.

I was at a complete and total loss for words. There was simply no pleasing this guy. Anything I said, everything about me, he hated. I'm sure he also hated the fact that I liked his daughter. Frankly, I could care less whether or not he liked me. That wasn't important. What was important was that I like Camille and she likes me.

"So, what's for dinner?" I asked, changing the subject in a hurry.

"Stuffed pork chops," Camille's dad replied. Even the way he said it, it was like 'Got a problem with that?'

"Dad, I told you! Logan doesn't eat pork. Remember?" Camille said.

I couldn't shake the fact that this was going horribly. Camille had to feel the same way. I was trying. I really was. Her dad just didn't like me.

"Tough luck. When I was a kid, we had to eat what was served or we went without. Plain and simple," Camille's father said.

I bit back an urge to comment, 'When you were a kid? How long ago was that? Four decades ago?' I felt there was no need to provoke him, no matter how much I was itching to do so anyways.

We sat down at the dinner table. Despite not liking pork, I ate the pork chops. It was the polite thing to do. We ate in silence for quite some time. I actually enjoyed the silence. At least that way, Camille's father wasn't reaffirming the fact that he couldn't stand me.

"You don't talk much, do you?" Camille's dad asked, breaking the silence.

"I'm sorry. I'm just really nervous," I answered, truthfully.

"You wouldn't be nervous unless you have something to be nervous about."

'You're certainly not doing anything to help me feel more at ease,' I thought to myself while secretly glaring daggers at Camille's father, all the while hoping she didn't notice. He didn't like me. Well, guess what? The feeling was mutual.

"You're kind of scrawny. If anyone's to date my daughter, he needs to be strong enough to protect her. What are you anorexic or something?" Camille's father inquired.

"Dad!" Camille shrieked in protest.

I scooted my chair back from the table, and stood up. That was the last straw. I didn't have to sit and take any more of this.

"This was a mistake," I said, looking at Camille.

"Finally, we agree on something," Camille's father added.

I ignored her father. I tore my gaze away from Camille. My eyes started to brim with tears. The last thing I wanted was for Camille to see that her father had made me cry. I wanted this dinner to go smoothly. I wanted that to happen so badly. Then, reality started to sink in. It hadn't, which meant…no, I didn't want to even think about that. I just needed to get out of here.

"I can show myself out," I stated, making extra sure that my voice didn't crack.

I walked over to the front door, opened it, and walked out of Camille's apartment, slamming the door shut behind me. I don't know why I slammed the door really. It was rather unnecessary. It was just I was so frustrated, and so disappointed in myself for not being able to make it work. I pressed my back against the door, and slid down until I was sitting on the carpet. I buried my face in my hands, and let my tears flow freely.

XXXXX

I don't even remember walking back to Apartment 2J, but I found myself back there. I had barricaded myself in the bathroom. I was an emotional wreck still. Kendall, James, Carlos, Katie, and Mrs. Knight were all really concerned when I wouldn't open the door or even answer them when they called my name. I didn't want to talk to them. I didn't want to talk to anybody.

"Logan? Sweetie, is everything okay?" Mrs. Knight asked, knocking on the bathroom door quietly.

I choked back a sob. I couldn't even see clearly because my vision was so clouded by tears. My nose was all runny, but I didn't care enough to bother to wipe it. What would be the point? It would just run some more as soon as I wiped it.

"Come on, Logie, open up!" Kendall said, trying his luck.

"Go away!" I shouted. I cringed at how pathetic my voice sounded. I couldn't believe I was being such a crybaby.

I didn't mean to take it out on Kendall. It's just what didn't they get about me wanting to be alone? Wasn't me barricading myself in the bathroom a big enough hint?

"Logan, what happened?" Carlos shouted.

"I don't want to talk about it!" I screamed back.

I didn't typically yell, even when I was angry, which wasn't very often. Especially not at Carlos, who, besides me, was probably the most sensitive one.

"Hey Logan! Camille's here!" James said.

My heart soared. Camille was the one person—the only person—I _did_ want to see. Her father? Yeah, not so much.

I unlocked the bathroom door, and opened it. I found myself face-to-face with Camille. She looked like she had raccoon eyes. Her make up was ruined by the myriad tear tracks on her face. Wait. Why was _she_ crying?

I shook the question aside, and quickly enveloped her in a hug. I never wanted to let go. It felt so right with her in my arms. We fit perfectly together. Then, she pushed me away and broke our physical contact in a not-so-subtle fashion.

"I just had a long talk with my dad, and I came here to break up with you," Camille said, before her body was racked by a fit of sobs.

At that moment, Camille's words might as well have been a knife piercing my heart. My jaw dropped. I was stunned. Out of all the things I hoped Camille would say, this was not one of them. This couldn't be happening. Not like this. Not this way. No, this wasn't real.

"My dad doesn't think you're the right guy for me. He's my best friend. If he doesn't approve…" Camille started to say before I cut her off.

"Who cares if he approves? I sure don't! All that matters is that I like you and you like me. You _do_ like me. Right?" I replied.

"Of course I do. It's just not enough."

"What do you mean?"

"Goodbye Logan."

Just like that, Camille left. The last two words repeated themselves in my ears over and over again. I plugged my ears stupidly hoping that would stop it. My knees buckled, and I dropped to the floor. I didn't care enough to pick myself up. I didn't care about anything anymore really.

To Be Continued…

**A/N: I told myself I wouldn't start another multi-chapter story until The Boy Is Mine was complete. Look how that turned out…Also, I am known for writing romance/humor, but I decided to shake things up a bit. I don't know how good I am at—what would this even be? Romance/angst? Anyhow, it's after three in the morning, and I'm going to bed. **


	2. Aftermath

**A/N: Wow! I was not expecting to get this huge of a response for this story. You all exceeded my expectations. You're all awesome! Look, I'm even updating faster than I normally do, that's how awesome you all are! **

**Disclaimer: Big Time Rush is the property of Nickelodeon. Well, the show is. Not the guys themselves. Though they could be…**

**Big Time Disaster**

_Aftermath_

_Camille's POV_

I was miserable. I hadn't slept a wink all night. I groaned and looked over at the alarm clock on my night stand. In bright red numbers it read '3:00 A.M.' Ever since breaking up with Logan, I had cried nonstop. I didn't even know it was humanly possible to cry this much. I thought maybe I would cry myself to sleep, but instead I just cried.

I hated myself. The look on Logan's face when I told him that I was breaking up with him pulled at my heartstrings. He looked hurt—so unbelievably hurt. He looked so broken and so defeated. I did that to him. I was the one responsible. Knowing this, only made me cry more. How could I do that to him?

I hated my father just as much if not more than I hated myself. After all, he's the one who made me break up with Logan. He's the one who didn't approve of me dating Logan. He's the one who didn't even like Logan. How was that even possible? Everyone likes Logan. He's probably the most likable guy I have ever met in my life.

I know it seemed like I was choosing my father over Logan, and maybe in some ways I was. I was just scared. My dad was my best friend. I didn't want to lose my best friend. Once that happened, _if_ that happened, then I might lose more than just a best friend, I'd lose my father as well. I couldn't even stomach the thought of that. I was only sixteen years old! What sixteen year old girl wants to lose her father? For that matter, what sixteen year old boy wants to lose his father?

I buried my face in my pillow and screamed. This was so unfair. Teenagers shouldn't have to make decisions like this. My boyfriend or my father? Seriously, what kind of a choice is that?

My dad came rushing into my room. He sat on the bed at my feet. I sat up, and he rubbed circles in my back. I hurriedly brushed away the tears that were rolling down my cheeks. I didn't want him to see that I was still crying.

"Shh! Sweetie, it's all right. You're okay," he said in a soothing voice.

It wasn't all right though. It wasn't okay. It may never be okay again. How could he say that to me? Didn't he realize that he was partly to blame for me feeling so down? Didn't he care that his decision to keep me away from Logan nearly destroyed me?

"This is about _Logan_, isn't it?" he asked.

My dad said his name with such disdain. For the life of me, I could not figure out why my father did not like Logan.

"What if I made a mistake breaking up with him?" I wondered out loud.

He laughed. Seriously, he was laughing at me. My musing wasn't even the slightest bit comical. How on Earth did he find that entertaining?

"Honey, there are plenty of fish in the sea," he said. That wasn't cliché or anything.

"I don't want any other fish. I want Logan," I responded.

My father stopped rubbing circles in my back. He scooted further away from me on the bed. He glowered at me. I felt like I was a little kid who had just been caught doing something naughty when he looked at me that way.

"So you're just going to ignore my feelings on the matter? I thought I meant more to you than that, Camille!" he remarked.

I was literally between a rock and a hard place. I hated every single second of it. There was no escape. There was no reprieve. It didn't get better as time went on. It got worse. Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, it somehow managed to do that as well.

A few rebellious stray tears fell down my cheeks. This didn't go unnoticed by my father. He narrowed his eyes at this display of emotion.

"Camille that is the last tear you will cry over this _Logan_! Do you hear me? You need to move on and forget about him! You'll thank me for this one day," he said, before getting up off my bed and leaving my bedroom.

XXXXX

I woke up to the sun beating down on my face. I looked over at the alarm clock on my night stand and saw that it was ten o'clock. Huh. I guess I really did cry myself to sleep after all.

The first thing I noticed was that the poster of Big Time Rush was no longer hanging on my wall. Where did it go? I didn't take it down. What happened to it? I checked everywhere for it. I looked under my bed. I looked in the closet. I examined every nook and cranny of my apartment, but it was nowhere to be found. Did my dad take it down? Did he get rid of it?

I turned on my stereo, and went to play the BTR demo Logan gave to me, but that's when I noticed that nothing was playing. I pushed the eject button, but nothing came out. That meant nothing was in it to begin with. I frantically searched for the demo. Once again, I examined every square inch of my apartment for it, but like my BTR poster, it was gone.

I fell backwards onto my bed. I couldn't believe this. First, my dad tells me I can't date Logan. Then, he gets rid of both my Big Time Rush poster and my Big Time Rush demo. What was he trying to do? Completely erase Logan from my life? That would be kind of hard considering that he also lives at The Palm Woods.

"Camille, you're up," my dad said.

I sat up in my bed, and saw him standing there in the doorway. He had this bright smile on his face. Of course he did. He probably threw my poster and demo in the trash while I was sleeping.

"Where's my Big Time Rush poster? And my BTR demo?" I demanded.

"Honey, I have no idea what you're talking about," he replied.

My blood was boiling. I _know_ he was the one who took it. He's the only other person who lived with me. He's the only person who had anything to gain by taking it and getting rid of it. Yet there he was feigning innocence.

"You know what I'm talking about, Dad!" I shouted.

"Hey! Don't you raise your voice at me!" he hollered back.

I stared at the comforter on my bed. Anything to not look my father in the face. I couldn't stand the sight of him right about now. So he could yell at me, but I couldn't yell at him? How was that fair?

"I was serious about what I said earlier about you needing to move on. In fact, I want you to change your Facebook status to single, delete Logan from your Facebook friends, and erase his number from your cell phone," my dad said in his normal speaking voice.

"Dad! You can't be serious!" I protested.

"Camille, do it or else I'll take your computer and phone away too!"

I knew it. He just admitted to taking my poster and demo. I knew it was him all along. Still, I couldn't believe what he was asking me to do. I wasn't sure I could bring myself to do it. Deleting Logan's number was no problem. I had his number memorized. The other stuff though, that was asking far too much of me.

I noticed he was still standing in the doorway. He had his hands on his hips and was tapping his foot on the ground impatiently. I knew what he was doing. He was literally going to stand there and watch me do what he asked me to.

I let out a defeated sigh. I sat at my computer desk, and logged onto Facebook. I changed my relationship status to single. Then, I went to my friends list. As I went to delete Logan from my Facebook friends, I hesitated.

"Camille!" my father scolded.

I clicked on delete. Then, I pulled my cell phone out of my purse and brought up my contact list. I quickly found Logan's number and deleted it.

"There. Done. Are you happy now?" I asked, visibly upset with him.

He walked over to me, and patted my head condescendingly. I shrank back from the contact.

"That's my girl!" he said, before leaving my bedroom whistling.

XXXXX

Later on, I decided to go sit by The Palm Woods pool. I saw Stephanie and Jo lounging in two adjacent chairs. I took a seat beside Jo. As soon as I sat down, Stephanie got up and left me and Jo. I was stunned. Did that just happen?

I didn't need to ask why Stephanie left as soon as I sat down. I already knew the answer. The Palm Woods was kind of like high school, aside from the fact that it actually _was_ a school. Word traveled fast here. People talked. Rumors spread. This was no different.

"I take it everyone already knows about me and Logan," I said. It was more of a statement than a question.

Jo gave me a disapproving look. I was just glad that she hadn't got up and left like Stephanie had. I don't know if I could take it if this whole thing with Logan made me lose my best girl friend as well.

"I don't get you, Camille. Why would you break up with Logan? He's crazy about you, and I know you're crazy about him too!" Jo commented.

"My dad doesn't approve," I replied. After the words left my tongue, I heard how ridiculous it actually sounded.

"This isn't the sixteenth century, Camille! It's 2010! Who cares if your dad doesn't approve? You don't need your dad's approval to date whoever you want to date!"

"My dad's my best friend!"

"I thought _I_ was your best friend."

"You're my best _girl_ friend."

Jo fell silent. She looked across the pool at Kendall. I followed her gaze and saw that Kendall, James, and Carlos were sitting on the opposite end of the pool in lounge chairs. However, I couldn't help to notice that Logan wasn't with them. This worried me.

"Where's Logan?" I asked.

Jo scoffed. "Please! Don't act like all of a sudden you care about Logan!"

"I do!"

"You sure have a funny way of showing it!"

I didn't see how this could get any worse. I broke up with Logan. Stephanie was ignoring me. Now, I was fighting with Jo. I started to realize how few friends I really had. All the friends I thought I had probably sided with Logan, and understandably so. He was the victim here.

"I saw what you did," Jo said.

"Come again?" I asked, confused.

"I saw that you changed your relationship status on Facebook to single, and deleted Logan from your friends list. What, are you trying to hurt him more than you already have?"

I was shocked. Did Jo really think so little of me? Didn't she know me better than that? I wasn't a malicious person. This wasn't some ploy to stick it to Logan. The last thing I wanted to do was to hurt Logan any more than I already have. How could Jo not know this?

"Jo, look—" I started to say before I was interrupted.

"No, you look Camille! Logan's my boyfriend's _best friend_! Do you understand that? He's a great guy! He doesn't deserve this! Any of this! I thought I could do this. I thought I could still be your friend despite how much I disapprove of what you did to Logan, but I can't. I won't." Jo said.

Jo then got up and left me sitting by myself. My eyes started to brim with tears, and my body began to shake uncontrollably. My world was coming down all around me. I still cared about Logan. How could Jo think otherwise? Just because I broke up with him doesn't mean I stopped caring about him. I do care about him. I'll probably _always_ care about him.

On the other side of the pool, I saw Jo walk over to Kendall. He wrapped his arms around her as she cried into his chest. He lowered his head, and whispered something in her ear. Then, I saw him look over at me. His eyes bore into mine. If looks could kill, I'd be pushing up daisies right about now.

The next thing I knew, Kendall, James, Carlos, and Jo left the Palm Woods pool, and headed back inside. I imagined Kendall whispered 'Let's get out of here,' or 'I don't feel like sitting by the pool anymore,' in Jo's ear.

I felt so empty inside. There was a hole in my heart where Logan used to be. As much as I tried to will the heartache away, it stubbornly persisted with a renewed sense of vigor. I didn't want to feel like this. I hated feeling like this. It hurt too much.

I slowly got up from my chair, and dragged my feet behind me as I decided to head back up to my apartment. What's the point of sitting by the pool if I was going to be sitting by myself? I truly was all alone now. I had no friends. More importantly, I had no Logan.

I climbed into the elevator and pushed the button for my floor. As the elevator began its steady ascent, I had a lot of time to think. I usually wasn't one who dwelled on things, but this whole ordeal had snowballed and now it was all I could think about. Would I ever see Logan again? Or would he just avoid me forever? Would Stephanie and Jo ever forgive me? What about Kendall, James, and Carlos?

The elevator came to a halt. The doors opened, and I saw him. There he was standing there. Logan.

"I think I'll take the stairs instead," Logan said, before he walked away.

I reached out to him as the elevator doors closed.

"Don't go," I said.

To Be Continued…

**A/N: There you have it. I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Just so you know, my writing style is I come up with a premise and a general direction for a story, but I don't have it all fleshed out yet. In other words, like you, I don't know what will happen next.**


	3. Logan Injured

**A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed, put this on their favorite story list, their story alert list, put me on their favorite author list, and author alert list. Without you, I'd seriously lose all desire to write this.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Big Time Rush. About the closest I am to that is having downloaded five of their songs, one of the episodes (Big Time Audition), and one music video (The City Is Ours) from iTunes. That reminds me. The City Is Ours (the single and the music video) is on iTunes for only $1.49 (if you purchase the album). I personally think it's a good deal given that the single alone is $1.29 and the music video alone is $1.99. However, it's your money, so do what you want. Ha, I'm plugging their merchandise. Look at that. Anyhow, despite what I've purchased from iTunes, that hardly constitutes me owning the show.**

**Big Time Disaster**

_Logan Injured_

_Logan's POV_

I was a wreck. It felt like I had hit rock bottom. Ever since Camille broke up with me, I was sleep deprived. There were ugly bags forming underneath my eyes. I lost my appetite. About the only thing I could occasionally stomach was saltines and ginger ale. Nothing else sounded good to me. Worse, anything else didn't settle well with my stomach. I'd never vomited so much in a twenty-four hour span as I had over the last day. The bathroom toilet was practically my new best friend.

I knew Camille was the reason for my downward spiral, yet I couldn't in good conscience hold her accountable. I would never outright blame her. I just couldn't do it. I missed her so much it was unbearable. She was like oxygen to me. I yearned for it. I desired it. I needed it. Without it, I would surely die.

Everyone was really supportive of me. They fussed over me and were willing to drop everything at a moment's notice to make sure I was okay. I was genuinely appreciative of that. It's just that it shouldn't be necessary in the first place. The break up had affected me more than just emotionally; it affected me physically too. Was that kind of reaction…normal?

What made matters worse was seeing how everyone now treated Camille. They treated her like dirt. They treated her like a wad of gum stuck on the bottom of your shoe. Sure, they catered to me, but by doing so, they brushed Camille off. They gave her the could shoulder. They made little snide remarks about her. They gave her dirty looks. I couldn't stand it. She tried to put on a brave face, but I knew better. I knew that she was suffering too.

Despite how crummy I felt, the show must go on. School was out for the summer, but there were still rehearsals at Rocque Records. Gustavo and Kelly could probably sense that something was wrong with me. However, they never asked. Maybe they knew I didn't want to talk about it. Or maybe they just didn't care. I was usually pretty good about keeping my business life and my personal life separate. On this occasion though, there was no such luck.

Mr. X was teaching us some new choreography. It was pretty intense. I was never good at dancing. Kendall, James, and Carlos picked it up easily. I struggled with it. I always struggled with it. Of course, it didn't help that my head just wasn't in the game. I just went through the motions.

There was one part of the choreography that involved me doing a back flip off of a six foot tall speaker. As a little kid, I was in gymnastics. The rest of the guys would tease me about it even to this day. But back flips were a cinch to me. I could do them with my eyes closed.

The back flip was supposed to happen at the beginning of the bridge. I climbed up on the speaker, and stood on the edge of it. My heels protruded over the edge as I waited for my cue.

"_I just had a long talk with my dad, and I came here to break up with you."_

"_Goodbye Logan."_

I freaked out when I realized that the bridge had already started. I hurriedly back flipped off the speaker. My form was off while I was airborne. I frantically tried to make the necessary adjustments.

I landed awkwardly on my left ankle. Let's just say that ankles weren't meant to bend that way. A sharp pain coursed through my body. I teetered until I fell down on my left side. I immediately grabbed my left ankle as I hugged my knee to my chest and rocked back and forth in agony.

"Logan!" Carlos cried out. He had been the closest one to me.

It wasn't long before Kendall, James, Carlos, even Mr. X were kneeling beside me. I could see the concerned looks on their faces. I tried to act tough. I even tried to pick myself up off the ground, but my hurt ankle protested, and I clenched my teeth in pain instead.

The pain was unbearable. It was excruciating. When I landed, I didn't hear any snapping or popping sounds. Then again, when I landed, the only thing on my mind was how much my ankle hurt. As an aspiring doctor, I knew that my ankle was at least sprained. Perhaps it was even broken.

My ankle felt as though it was on fire. There was a searing pain that resonated from my injured joint. I squeezed my eyes shut tightly as wave after wave of pain coursed through my body. I noticed that the corners of my eyes were starting to get moist. Great. Hadn't the guys seen me cry enough over the last day or so?

"What were you thinking? That choreography was much too difficult!" James shouted. Since my eyes were closed, I wasn't quite sure who James was yelling at. Me?

"I'm sorry. I had no idea this would happen. I thought acrobatics was his area of expertise," Mr. X replied.

I guess that answered my question about who James was yelling at. Mr. X was right though; acrobatics was my area of expertise. I did have a background in gymnastics. It's just none of that did me a lick of good today.

"I just got off the phone with the paramedics. They're on their way," Kendall announced.

"What do we do until then?" Carlos asked, his voice frantic.

I could already feel that my ankle was starting to swell. I clenched my hands into fists so tightly that I wouldn't be surprised if my knuckles had turned a ghostly white color. I gritted my teeth together as a fresh torrent of torment racked every fiber of my being.

"Ice," I don't know how, but I somehow managed to get that one word out.

"On it," I heard James say.

I took a chance and opened my eyes. I saw Kendall and Carlos frowning at me. I could feel the concern that permeated their cores. The fear in their eyes didn't go unnoticed. How could this happen to me? I was always the most careful one. Usually, it was me who was tending to them not the other way around.

"Guys, I'll be fine," I said in an attempt to reassure them. I wasn't sure if I was talking about my ankle or this whole mess with Camille. Maybe I had meant both.

Kendall and Carlos didn't look convinced. I didn't really blame them though. I couldn't stand on my own two feet without help. The situation no doubt seemed dire to them. Based on the tortuous pain I was experiencing, I feared that my predicament was more severe than I originally believed.

"Here's the ice," James said, scrambling back over to me.

"Put it on my ankle," I instructed. I tried to keep my voice calm. If my voice was panicked, it would only cause them to panic also.

James held the ice to my ankle. I flinched at how cold it was. It did help to douse the fire that it had felt like my ankle was on though. However, the pain was there. The slightest movement of my ankle resulted in me crying out in agony, no matter how much I tried to resist.

I heard sirens outside, and I knew that the paramedics were here. I breathed a sigh of relief and silently prayed that my ankle wasn't broken.

XXXXX

After getting my an X-ray, the doctors came to the conclusion that it was only a sprain. That was good. At least it wasn't broken. That could have meant the end of me being a part of Big Time Rush. Had that happened, Gustavo probably would've replaced me in a heartbeat.

I was allowed to go home. The doctors gave me a prescription for some pain killers. My ankle was bandaged. They advised me to stay off it, put ice on it, and keep it elevated so the swelling doesn't get any worse. Pretty much, I was on bed rest for a few days.

So I was laying in my bed in 2J. My feet were propped up on a bunch of pillows. Kendall, James, and Carlos were crowded around me. Katie and Mrs. Knight were also in my room, but they weren't quite so close.

The pain killers the doctors gave me were starting to kick in. My eyelids felt like they weighed a ton. I was starting to feel a bit drowsy.

"Don't scare us like that again, Logie," I heard Kendall say.

I struggled to keep my eyes open, but it was to no avail. I finally got some much needed sleep. The past forty-eight hours had been very taxing to say the least. Even though I was unconscious, I could still hear the others talking.

"What happened back there?" James asked. He had been the furthest one from me in the dance studio.

"Yeah, I've never seen Logan _not_ land a back flip!" Carlos added.

I couldn't help myself from thinking that Carlos still hadn't seen me not land a back flip. After all, I _did_ land it. I just landed it wrong. It wasn't a perfect landing. I still landed it though.

"I bet I know what happened," Kendall said.

"What?" Carlos and James replied in unison.

"Logan was thinking about Camille when he jumped. That's what caused him to mess up."

It was unnerving how spot on Kendall was. I had been thinking about Camille before attempting the choreographed acrobatic trick. It was uncanny how well Kendall really knew me. He probably knew me the best out of anybody. Sometimes, I think he knows me better than even I know myself.

"Speaking of Camille, what are we going to do about that?" Carlos asked.

"We'll just have to get him to forget about her. There are plenty of other girls at The Palm Woods besides Camille," Kendall said.

On second thought, maybe Kendall wasn't always spot on when it came to what I was thinking. I didn't want to move on. All I wanted was Camille to come back to me. I know she is the girl for me. I think deep down, she knows that I'm the guy for her too. I was willing to wait a lifetime for her if need be.

"I'd hate to play devil's advocate, but what if Logan doesn't _want_ to move on? What if he's still hung up on Camille?" Mrs. Knight inquired.

"Mom, he could've broken his ankle today because of her! Don't even get me started on the damage she did to his heart!" Kendall exclaimed, on the brink of shouting.

"I'm with Kendall, Mom. To think, I used to _like_ Camille," Katie remarked.

No, no, no! Not Katie too! Why does everyone keep jumping on the 'I hate Camille' bandwagon? It's frightening how quickly everyone seems to turn on her. It makes me wonder how close they were to her in the first place.

"Katie, she didn't cause him to land his back flip wrong now did she? As for her breaking Logan's heart, did you ever stop to think that maybe just maybe there's more to what she did than meets the eye?" Mrs. Knight questioned.

I had never even thought about that before. I always just assumed that it was Camille's decision to break up with me. I took it at face value. I never gave it another thought. Maybe it wasn't even her decision at all to break up with me. Maybe it was her father's. It was no secret that he didn't like me. What if he somehow forced her to break up with me?

"Like what?" Katie asked.

"I don't know. What I _do_ know though is that Camille was and is crazy about Logan. She wouldn't just all of a sudden break up with him. Something just doesn't add up," Mrs. Knight answered.

I was impressed by Kendall's mom. I desperately wanted to open my eyes and thank her for sticking by Camille's side when no one else would. Mrs. Knight had me convinced that it in fact _wasn't_ Camille's decision to break up with me. That meant that she _did_ still care about me. That meant that there was hope for me and her yet.

It was weird. Maybe it was the pain killers, but I didn't feel any pain—physically or emotionally. I made a promise to myself that as soon as I got better, I would go to Camille and tell her that I wasn't going to give up on us. I would fight for her. Sure, she hurt me before, but now that I was certain it was never her decision to hurt me in the first place, that changes everything.

I already knew Camille's father was the puppet master pulling the strings. What I didn't know was how low he would stoop; what lengths he would go to ensure that his daughter and I weren't together; or how dirty he was willing to play. Little did I know that I would soon be in for a rude awakening.

To Be Continued…

**A/N: Okay, so I'm seriously flabbergasted. I usually update about once a week. Maybe I'm just so stoked by the reception this story is getting that my creative juices are kicked into overdrive or something. Seriously, I'm not one of those writers who are all, "I won't update until I get (insert number) reviews." Having said that, I usually don't get this many reviews per chapter. It's amazing! So, if you don't get a personal review reply from me (for those of you who review anonymously), thank you so much! If you do, well thanks again!**


	4. Stirring the Pot

**A/N: I'm so sorry I didn't update sooner. I've been having computer problems recently. Plus, I'm gearing up to audition for American Idol. I'm auditioning in Austin, Texas on the 11****th****. **

**Disclaimer: I still don't own Big Time Rush. I still am not making a profit by writing this. **

**Big Time Disaster**

_Stirring the Pot _

_Camille's POV_

Today was a big day for me. I had an audition. Aside from my part in Big Time Rush's music video 'The City Is Ours,' I hadn't booked a role in six months. This audition could change all that. It was only a small role. I was playing a girl who the male lead uses to make his ex-girlfriend jealous. It was only a three episode arc, but it was something. Better than nothing, right?

My father and I were walking through The Palm Woods lobby. My dad was not only my ride to auditions, but he was also there for moral support. No matter what happened, good or bad, he was always there to offer me words of encouragement. His accompanying me to auditions had a second purpose though. He also videotaped all of my auditions. He always told me it was so that he could record my progression as an up and coming actress.

As we were walking through the lobby, something caught my ear. I sincerely hoped I had heard what I thought I heard wrong. No, no, no! It couldn't be true. Tell me it wasn't true. How did this happen? When did this happen? Why did this happen? Where did this happen? How could this happen? This newfound discovery quite literally stopped me in my tracks.

"Did you hear about what happened to Logan?" a teenage girl asked.

My heart skipped a beat. I didn't like where this was going.

"You mean his ankle injury?" a teenage boy replied.

Ankle injury? What ankle injury? Was it serious? Is he in the hospital? Is it broken? Sprained? Is he okay?

"Yeah," the teenage girl answered.

"I heard about that. What do you want to bet that was somehow Camille's fault too?" the teenage boy asked, blatantly narrowing his eyes at me.

"I know, right?"

It was just my luck that not only were my so-called friends mad at me. Not only was Logan mad at me. Now, on top of that, other random residents of The Palm Woods were mad at me too. Was there anyone who _wasn't_ mad at me? Or did I even want to know the answer to that?

The two teenagers left me and my father and went about their business. Despite their hatefulness towards me, I was actually kind of grateful I had bumped into them. Logan had injured his ankle. This was news to me; News that I wouldn't have heard had I not been in the lobby when I was.

"Dad, Logan's hurt. I have to go see him!" I pleaded.

"You will do no such thing! Now come on. You don't want to be late for your audition," my dad commanded.

I folded my arms over my chest and blew a stray strand of hair out of my eyes. My lips pouted slightly. However, my father didn't budge an inch. He was a pro. He was immune to even my best pouting face.

The truth of the matter was that out of me and my dad, I was the breadwinner here in Los Angeles. He was unemployed. In these economic times, it was hard to find a job. Even back in Connecticut, he didn't have a job. Back home, my mom was the breadwinner. So basically, my dad relied on me landing a part because that meant he got a paycheck.

"Camille, for the last time, you need to forget about Logan. You need to move on," he said.

I let out a defeated sigh and followed my father out of The Palm Woods lobby.

XXXXX

I was all sorts of uncomfortable. I had already familiarized with the script. My lines weren't too hard to memorize. I think I had one—"Are you sure about this?" So, it wasn't that I was unfamiliar with the script. After all, I'm not called The Palm Woods "Method Actress Queen" for nothing. I was uncomfortable because my role involved me making out with the male lead—a lot. The problem with that was the male lead wasn't Logan. Logan and I were over, so then why does it feel like I'm cheating on him?

The male lead, Conner, couldn't be more different than Logan. Whereas Conner had blonde hair, Logan had brown hair. While Conner's hair was long, Logan's was short. Conner had blue eyes. Logan had brown eyes. Conner was muscular. Logan was lean. Conner had dimples like Logan, but they weren't where Logan's dimples were. While Logan was smart, Conner was somewhat of an airhead. He kind of reminded me of a surfer dude. Maybe it was they way he looked, or maybe it was the way he talked, or maybe it was both those things.

This was a very important audition for me nevertheless. If I booked the role, I would make five thousand dollars. Even though I didn't relish the idea of making out with another guy, it _was_ just acting. It's not like I have any romantic feelings for Conner. He's not even my type. Logan's my type, and Conner's no Logan.

What I ended up doing was to imagine that I was kissing Logan instead of Conner. I found that when I did that, I was perfectly comfortable. For all intents and purposes, Conner wasn't the male lead. Logan was. I didn't see Conner looking me in the eyes. I saw Logan.

"Three, two, one, roll it!" the director shouted.

"So basically, I'm just using you to make my ex-girlfriend jealous," Conner said.

"Are you sure about this?" I asked.

The actress who played Conner's ex-girlfriend entered the scene next. She looked over at Conner and me. After giving me a brief once over, she shook her head in disapproval. Conner cupped my face with his hand, and his lips crashed into mine.

True to the script, I returned the kiss. It wasn't that difficult. Like I said before, I was envisioning that I was kissing Logan.

The ex-girlfriend left the scene visibly upset by what she had just witnessed.

"Cut! That was great!" the director beamed.

As soon as I pulled back, reality began to sink in. I hadn't been kissing Logan. The corners of my mouth pulled downwards in a frown. Conner must've noticed this. He lifted my chin up with his finger, and he leaned in. I could feel his warm breath on my face. Was he trying to do what I thought he was trying to do? Our noses grazed, and then I felt his lips on mine.

What was he doing? What was he thinking? We had stopped filming! Then I felt something that appalled me. I felt his tongue seeking entrance into my mouth. He was trying to French kiss me. I immediately rained on his parade, breaking up our lip lock. I pulled my hand back and slapped him hard across his right cheek. I could make out the faint outline of my hand print on his now red cheek.

"Ouch! What was that for?" Conner asked, rubbing his sore face.

"We stopped filming! Besides, that wasn't even in the script! Plus, I don't even like you like that!" I exclaimed.

"Come on, I know you totally felt what I felt."

What Conner was about to feel was another slap to the face if he kept this up any longer. I only kissed him because the role required me to. Outside of that, I wasn't the least bit attracted to him.

I ignored Conner, and turned to see that my dad had already left the studio. When did he leave? Why did he leave? Where did he go? How was I supposed to get back to The Palm Woods? My mind raced with many unanswered questions.

XXXXX

I found it suspicious that I had to find another way back to The Palm Woods instead of riding back with my dad. I was actually kind of relived though, because now that I wasn't in my father's presence, I was free to go see Logan.

What I didn't know though was that I wasn't the only one who had that idea.

The guys of Big Time Rush had been staying at The Palm Woods for over three months now. In that span of time, I had become quite familiar with the trek to Apartment 2J. I didn't even have to think about how to get there. I just let my feet do the walking.

When I arrived at the door to Apartment 2J, I hesitated. I realized that I had overlooked the possibility that Logan might not even be at The Palm Woods. There was a chance he could be at the hospital instead, though I certainly hoped not. That would mean the injury to his ankle was way more serious than I hoped it was.

I held my fist up in the air, and rapped my knuckles on the door. I took a deep breath while I waited for someone to answer the door.

Who would answer the door? Katie? Mrs. Knight? Kendall? James? Carlos? Logan? No, it couldn't be Logan though I wanted it to be. If he hurt his ankle, he probably wouldn't be the one opening the door for me. He was probably supposed to stay off of it. I couldn't decide who I wanted to open the door instead. After contemplating it, I thought Mrs. Knight would be my best bet.

It wasn't Mrs. Knight that opened the door however.

"Hey Camille," Carlos greeted.

I was caught off guard by his cheerful tone and the fact that he was actually smiling at me. Did he forget what had just happened between me and Logan over the past few days? Wasn't he mad at me? I thought he and Logan were best friends.

"Hi, Carlos," I said meekly.

Carlos rolled his eyes at how tentative I was being around him. He then let out another laugh. His eyes crinkled up when he laughed. Kind of like when Logan laughs.

"Let me guess. You're here to see Logan, right?" he asked.

For a split second I contemplated the idea that Carlos was just faking being polite to me. The next second, I was thinking how ludicrous that was to even consider the idea. Carlos was probably the most happy-go-lucky person I knew. He probably never faked being polite in his life. Frankly, I don't know if he could even do it, but he probably would never need to.

"Yeah. If that's okay, I mean," I answered.

"Hold on. I'll go ask Logan," Carlos replied.

There was a question in the back of my mind that was bugging the heck out of me. I had to address the elephant in the room.

"Hey Carlos, why aren't you mad at me?" I asked.

Carlos gave me a goofy grin.

"You mean Logan hasn't told you how much I suck at holding grudges?" Carlos responded.

I shook my head no.

"Well, I do. I think the longest I've ever held a grudge was one hour. After an hour, I'd go up to the person I was supposed to be mad at and say something like, 'I'm bored. What do you want to do?' Weird, right?" Carlos said.

I couldn't help but laugh at what Carlos had said. That was one thing that I admired about Carlos; his happiness was infectious. When he gave that goofy grin of his, or did or said some of the crazy things he does or says, then you couldn't help but smile or laugh back.

"Besides, Kendall's mom said something to us yesterday that stuck with me. I happen to agree with her. She said that it wasn't even your choice to break up with Logan," Carlos added.

My smile disappeared and I fell silent. I had a good idea where Carlos was going with this. I didn't exactly want to get into this with him.

"So, are you going to ask Logan if he's up for visitors?" I asked, desperately changing the subject.

"Oh yeah. Be right back," Carlos said before walking down the hallway to the bedroom he, Kendall, James, and Logan shared.

Talking with Carlos gave me hope. Maybe everyone hadn't abandoned me after all. Maybe I still had some friends, no matter how few they were. Carlos had said that Mrs. Knight defended me. He also said that he agreed with her. They were two more friends than I thought I had before I came here today.

XXXXX

Logan had agreed to see me. I tried not to get my hopes up too high, but I couldn't help myself. The mere fact that he didn't have Carlos send me away made my heart soar. That wasn't what I expected at all. However, I was pleasantly surprised to say the least.

When I reached Logan's room, I let out a small gasp. There were three reasons for my gasp: First of all, I saw Logan laying in his bed with his feet propped up on pillows, his ankle wrapped up in bandages, and he never looked so…small as he did then. Secondly, he had a look on his face very similar to the expression he had when I broke up with him; hurt. Lastly, what I saw on his chest made me furious. My father's video camera was sitting on top of Logan's chest.

I knew there was a reason why my father didn't take me back to The Palm Woods today. Still, I never knew he would stoop so low. How could he do this to me? Could he be any more obvious? I knew what his intentions were, and I hoped beyond all hope that Logan wouldn't fall for it.

"Logan, I can explain," I said in a hurry.

"There's no need," Logan replied before I could elaborate.

I wasn't sure what to make of his ambiguous comment; did he mean that he understood that my father was trying to come between us? Or did he buy into the lie my father was trying to feed him? I hoped for the former, but feared it was the latter.

I stood there in silence and watched the footage with Logan. It wasn't his first time seeing it, but it was mine. I was mortified by how the angle with which my father recorded made it look like he had captured a private, intimate moment between me and Conner rather than a scene that was being filmed in a studio.

There were no signs of any cameras, crew, lights, equipment, or even any other cast members. For all intents and purposes, it truly did look like it was just me and Conner by ourselves. Surely, this was what my father was counting on.

I couldn't help but notice that he didn't record the part where I slapped Conner after he tried to make a move on me after the cameras stopped rolling. Without that, I knew I looked terribly guilty to Logan.

"I wanted to see you so you could tell me to my face how you could do that to me," Logan said.

His tone of voice was monotone, but I knew inside he was heartbroken…again. It was entirely my father's fault once again. Why couldn't he just stay out of my personal life? Was it too much to ask?

"Logan, it was just acting," I responded.

"You and the actor guy or you and me?" Logan asked.

My mouth was agape. I was shocked that he could even ask me that. Didn't he know me better than that? I know he was hurting, but still. My feelings for him have been sincere ever since day one. Even after breaking up with him, I still cared about him. I wasn't acting like I cared about him. How could he even think that?

"So that's it? You're just going to let my dad win?" I retorted.

"Excuse me for not being able to get the image of you making out with some other guy out of my head!" Logan remarked.

"I was auditioning for a role!"

"You seemed pretty into it."

"I was pretending he was you!"

Logan fell silent. It was hard to get a good read on him, but it looked like he was torn. I could see that he wanted to believe me. However, I could also see how much my kissing scene with Conner had hurt Logan. I just hoped he would fight for us. I was willing to fight for him. I just needed him to fight for me too.

"It's funny. I was going to tell you that I'm not going to give up on us. That was before I saw this recording though. Now…" he started to say.

"This changes nothing. If you're not going to give up on us, then _don't_ give up on us!" I begged him.

"I think I need some time and space. Everything is happening so fast. I'm having a hard time digesting it all."

I was crushed. Logan was going to tell me that he wasn't going to give up on us. Then this audition had to ruin everything. If Logan wanted time and space, I'd give him time and space. I could only hope for the best.

To Be Continued…

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed last chapter! Sorry I didn't get around to sending you review replies. Did you all buy 'The City Is Ours' yet? Just kidding. Sort of. Oh, and there's a new poll on my profile page. It asks which of my stories is your favorite. I have a hunch I know how this poll will turn out though. I genuinely appreciate everyone's support!**


	5. Seeds of Doubt

**A/N: What did you all think of Big Time Concert and Live from Times Square? Anyways, I apologize for the wait. After my audition didn't go the way I would have liked, I kind of lost my mojo for a bit. More recently, I can't access the internet on my PC. It keeps rebooting itself for like hours on end. I think it has a virus. Anyways, I'm actually typing this on my dad's computer, since mine is essentially worthless now.**

**Disclaimer: I still don't own Big Time Rush. I'm not THAT lucky.**

**Big Time Disaster**

_Seeds of Doubt_

_Kendall's POV_

I couldn't believe it. Logan was still hung up on Camille. After everything she had done to him, he still wasn't over her. _She_ broke up with _him_. _She_ kissed another guy. He sprained his ankle because he was thinking about her instead of the choreography. He had told her that he needed time and space. However, I could tell that he was seriously considering getting back together with her. Why? I had no idea. It just didn't make sense. Was he a glutton for punishment? Was he some sort of masochist?

Personally, Camille wasn't my type, and so I didn't see what Logan saw in her. To be honest, Camille wasn't Logan's type either. She was way too dramatic. Half the time he couldn't even tell if she was rehearsing a scene or being real. Plus, there was the fact that she took advantage of the fact that he was so scared of everything. She would intimidate him to get what she wants, and let's face it. Logan was easily intimidated.

Now, Camille didn't have a single friend, and truthfully, it serves her right. James, Carlos, and I weren't her friends anymore. Stephanie and Jo weren't her friends anymore. Even Logan wasn't friends with Camille anymore, yet he still was holding onto the hope that the two of them would get back together.

What it all boiled down to was that I was trying to protect Logan from her. Logan was my best friend. She just wasn't good for him. Not even remotely. Logan may have forgiven her for all of her transgressions. I don't know. All I knew was that I would neither forgive nor forget. As of late, Camille showed her true colors, and that just made me more convinced than ever that she wasn't right for Logan.

Logan was finally off bed rest. He could now move around with the assistance of crutches. It pained me to see him hobbling around. It pained me even more to know that he wouldn't have to if it wasn't for Camille. Logan had always been vulnerable. Ever since we were in peewee hockey together, I've felt an overwhelming need to protect him. Now though, he looked as vulnerable as I'd ever seen him.

I had decided that enough was enough. It may jeopardize our friendship, but I had to talk to Logan and convince him to put an end to this once and for all. I couldn't stand to see him continue to go back to her only for him to get hurt again.

"Hey Logie," I greeted.

"What's up K-Dawg?" Logan replied.

We both smiled at the ridiculous nicknames we had for each other. It was rather nice to see Logan smile again. He hadn't done much of that lately.

"Can I ask you something?" I inquired.

"Go for it," Logan responded.

"You're not seriously thinking of getting back together with Camille, are you?"

Logan shifted uncomfortably on his bed where he was seated. Judging from his body language, he was having second thoughts about me asking that question after all.

"I don't want to talk about this with you," Logan stated.

"Why not?" I retorted, somewhat hurt.

"Because you're biased."

"And you're not?"

Logan let out a deep sigh. I was trying to keep my emotions in check. It was all for nothing though. I could already feel myself start to get worked up. I was quickly becoming frustrated with Logan. Usually, he wasn't this stubborn.

"Look Kendall, if you and Jo were going through what Camille and I are, I would never tell you to stop seeing her if I knew that's what you truly wanted," Logan said.

"That's stupid," I muttered under my breath.

"That's called being a good friend."

"Oh, so now I'm not a good friend?"

"Now you're just putting words in my mouth."

Great. Logan and I were fighting. We rarely ever fought. James and I? Yes. Carlos and Logan? Yes. James and Logan? Yes. Carlos and I? Yes. James and Carlos? Yes. There was nothing worse than fighting with your best friend.

"Excuse me for not wanting to stand idly by and watch her hurt you again," I remarked.

"I've had a whole lot of time to think lately. I've come to the realization that there is a strong possibility that I overreacted. I mean I didn't really even give Camille a chance to explain herself. I just reacted," Logan said.

"What's there to explain? She kissed another guy!"

"Maybe there's a perfectly logical explanation for it."

"Why are you giving her the benefit of doubt?"

"Because the more I think about it, the more I am certain that she wouldn't do something like that just to stick it to me. She would never intentionally hurt me."

I threw my hands up in frustration. Did he really just say what I think he said? Was he really that oblivious to what had happened over the past several days?

"Wake up, Logan! She _has_ hurt you! In fact, as of late, she has done nothing but hurt you! She has broken you emotionally and physically!" I exclaimed gesturing towards his bandaged ankle.

"Kendall, stop. Please stop. I don't want to fight with you. Why can't you just respect my decision to not give up on her?" Logan asked.

"Because it's the wrong decision! She's an aspiring actress, right? What if she gets her big break and she has to leave L.A. to go film somewhere? What if she never comes back? You'll be left behind, that's what. Or, on the flip side, what if her Hollywood dream gets crushed, and she has to go back to Connecticut? Again, she'll leave you behind. What if she falls in love with some co-star she meets on the set, and forgets all about you?"

Logan had a confused expression written all over his face.

"Since when did you become the pessimistic one? I thought that was my niche," Logan commented.

"I'm not being pessimistic. I'm being realistic," I shot back.

It was strange. I remember way back when Logan said something very similar to what I had just said. It was back when we were getting the ultra-teen crib built at The Palm Woods instead of Rocque Records. I remember that day like it was yesterday. It was the first time that I noticed that Camille had a thing for Logan.

"I don't know. I'll go with her. Or I'll stay here and we'll have a long distance relationship. We'll work something out. As for her falling for a co-star, I just have to trust her, and you may not like this, but I do," Logan stated.

I was completely beside myself. Stunned wasn't even a strong enough word to describe how I was feeling at the moment.

"So you'd choose Camille over the band? Over your best friends?" I questioned.

"I didn't say that!" Logan replied.

"In so many words, you kind of did!"

"Well, that's not what I meant. What I meant is that we'd find some way to get through any adversity the two of us may face together."

There was no doubt that Logan was being fiercely stubborn right now. Although, it could also be construed as loyalty as well—loyalty to Camille. I'm not so sure she even deserved to have his loyalty in the first place.

As much as I hated to do it, and I did hate to do it, I knew that I needed to pull out all the stops in a last ditch effort to convince Logan that Camille was all wrong for him. I needed to plant seeds of doubt in his head. That was the only shot I had.

"I wonder though. If roles were reversed, would she show you the same loyalty that you are showing her? Do you honestly think she would choose you over her career? Over her friends? Not that she has any at the moment," I commented, the last part slipping off my tongue.

"Of course she would," Logan replied, but I detected the uncertainty in his voice.

"Logie, you are one of the most selfless people I know. You flew halfway across the country because I wanted you, Carlos, and James to come with me. You're part of a boy band not because it's your dream, but because it's James's dream, and you are willing to do anything in your power to help make his dream come true. I'd hate to say it, but Camille isn't a selfless person like you are. She's a selfish person. See, I know for a fact that given a choice between you and her career, she'd choose her career in a heartbeat. That's not to say that she doesn't care about you, because as much as I dislike it, she does. It's just she cares about her career even more."

Logan was literally trembling like a leaf. He repeatedly shook his head left to right.

"No, you're wrong! It's not true!" Logan exclaimed.

I walked over to Logan, and put a hand on his shoulder. It ate me up inside to see him in so much pain, knowing that I was the cause of it this time around. It was a necessary pain though. If it meant him seeing the light and finally getting over Camille, then it was worth it.

Logan brushed my hand off his shoulder. He narrowed his eyes at me. They say that your eyes are the window to your soul. By looking in his eyes, I gazed into his soul. Anger. Betrayal. Rage. Fear. Sadness. Denial. Frustration. Disappointment. Confusion. Doubt.

"I thought you were my friend," Logan said, in a voice barely louder than a 12-inch whisper.

"I am!" I remarked.

"Then why don't you start acting like it? You know, you're no different than Camille's dad. Both of you are trying to tear me and Camille apart!"

Why couldn't Logan see it? Why couldn't he understand that I _was_ trying to be his friend? I was trying to protect him. I was trying to do him a favor. I was telling him the truth, even if it wasn't what he wanted to hear. Wasn't that what friends are _supposed_ to do?

I had gotten in fights with my friends before, but never like this, and especially not with Logan. Usually, it was petty bickering over stupid stuff. Usually, we'd forgive each other within an hour, and be the best of buds again. I couldn't shake the feeling that this wouldn't be anything like that. I started to have my own doubts. Was getting Logan to call it quits with Camille really worth jeopardizing my own friendship with him?

"Oh, so now I'm not your friend anymore? What? Because I'm right, and for once, you're wrong, and you just can't swallow your pride and admit it? That's what it is, isn't it? You just hate being wrong," I said.

"Kendall, please stop. I hate fighting with you," Logan said, giving me a pleading look.

"You think I like fighting with you? I don't. I hate it too."

The two of us were at an impasse. Both of us had our feet firmly planted in the ground. Neither one of us were backing down an inch.

"Oh Logie, why couldn't you have fallen for any other girl?" I asked, my voice softening.

"Because then she wouldn't be the one," Logan replied. "I love her Kendall."

I sighed. I knew he did. That was part of the problem. That part was never in question. The truth of the matter was I was scared. Logan had never been as emotionally invested in a girl he liked as he was with Camille. With her, he wore his heart on his sleeve. I would hate to see his heart broken by her. When you open yourself up that much to somebody, that always is a possibility.

I wanted to be wrong about Camille. Really, I did. There was too much incriminating evidence against her though. I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach; a hunch if you will that she would only ultimately break his heart. I wanted Logan to be happy. He deserved that much. I was just convinced beyond a shadow of a doubt, that with Camille, he wouldn't ever really find that happiness.

"I know you do, but does she love you?" I replied.

"You're joking, right? She's crazy about me," Logan remarked.

"Yes, but being crazy about someone and loving someone are two entirely different things."

I knew I had a point. Camille had never told Logan that she loves him. For that matter, Logan had never told her that he loves her. Although, he did admit it to me. I had a mission to accomplish. I still needed to try to make him doubt the feelings he and Camille had for one another.

I mean Logan had never kissed Camille. She was always the one to initiate the kiss. I guess in a way, it was a testament to their characters. Camille was passionate. Logan was more cautious. Were they ever even a couple? Did they ever decide to go steady? Sure, they hung around each other a lot. With me and Jo, we made no bones about being an official couple. With Logan and Camille, it was always assumed, but never confirmed.

I noticed that Logan had drifted off to sleep. The pain medications he was on had a tendency to make him drowsy. He was sprawled out on his bed. I put a pillow under his head, and pulled a blanket over him. I turned off the light switch before leaving the room and letting him get some sleep, quietly shutting the door behind me.

To Be Continued…

**A/N: Once again, thank you so, so much to everyone who in one way or another has supported this story! All of your reviews and encouragement are very much appreciated! I felt so bad not being able to update in a while. I do hope you're not too mad at me. Oh, and this story is winning on the poll on my profile page. That's not too surprising though. I had a feeling it would.**


	6. Mean Girls

**A/N: This is me trying to make up for taking so long to upload Chapter 5. **

**Disclaimer: Big Time Rush is the property of Nickelodeon. I am not making a profit by writing this.**

**Big Time Disaster**

_Mean Girls_

_Jennifer 2's POV_

Things around The Palm Woods have been great. Word spread like wildfire about Logan and Camille's breakup. It wasn't long before everyone was aware of the recorded make out session between Camille and some other guy either. Now, Camille was alone and miserable. Like I said, things were great.

Everyone knew that Camille and The Jennifers weren't friends. Frankly, I didn't come to this town to make friends. I came here to be famous. It's important to stay focused on your goal, and to not get distracted by anything or anybody.

What a lot of people didn't know was that Camille and The Jennifers were fierce rivals. Basically, there was no love lost between us. There was a constant game of one-upsmanship between us and her. Of course, we always came out on top. We would intentionally audition for the same roles as her. It should come as no surprise that we ended up getting the roles. Frankly, that's why it took her 32 auditions to finally book a part. The whole time, she'd been trying out for the same role as us. The one time we didn't try out for the same role as her (The role was a joke!) and lo and behold, she booked the part.

Before Big Time Rush came to The Palm Woods, and before Jo came to The Palm Woods, Camille had no one. There wasn't a single person here who was friends with her. Everyone was too freaked out by her over-the-top bizarre behavior to even think about befriending her. There's strength in numbers, and since Camille had no numbers, she made a perfect target…for us.

Some of the fondest memories I had of this place involved us bullying Camille. We would shove her in the pool. We tied her shoelaces together so she tripped when she stood up. We would call her names and put her down until she ran off and cried. We would throw half-drank smoothies in her face just for the heck of it. The thing was she never did anything about it. What could she do? There were three of us and only one of her.

As for this thing with Logan, we were on Logan's side. It's not because we were friends with Logan. Hardly. We weren't friends with any member of Big Time Rush. The one who was closest to being friends with us would probably be Carlos, but even then, we weren't friends. Big Time Rush wasn't famous enough yet. They were still not worthy enough to date a Jennifer. It's just Camille made a huge mistake, and she didn't realize what she had until she lost it.

Don't get me wrong. Logan is a catch. He's adorable. He has a great smile. In a way, he kind of reminds me of a golden retriever. He's reliable, dependable, loyal, and a good companion. Plus, believe it or not, I actually listened to BTR's demo, and I must say that in my opinion, Logan is the most underrated member of the band. It really is a shame that the majority of the time he is relegated to singing backup vocals and harmonies while Kendall and James get to sing the lead. Logan has a good voice—maybe even the best voice. It's just he doesn't have the confidence that Kendall and James has. Maybe that's why he's stuck singing backup vocals and harmonies.

Oh. My. Gosh. I just got the most brilliant idea ever. This is good. This is too good. What a perfect way to stick it to Camille. She would flip.

"Jennifers, listen up. I've got a plan," I announced.

The three of us got in a huddle, as I let them in on the brilliant idea I had. There was a reason why I was the leader of The Jennifers. I really don't know what they'd do without me. It's obvious I'm the best one. I'm the prettiest. I'm the smartest. I'm the most talented. I'm just better than them, period. I mean I booked that soap opera role in Iceland and they didn't. That speaks volumes about our pecking order.

Wouldn't you know it, who happened to come sit by the pool but my favorite victim, Camille. This was too perfect. Could this day get any better?

"Hello, Camille," I said as the three of us walked over to where she was sitting by the pool.

Camille groaned in a not-so-subtle manner. "Ugh! What do you three want?"

"It must be tough for you. You have no friends. You have no boyfriend. You're…poor," the brunette Jennifer commented.

"But we have good news for you. The three of us have come up with a way for you to possibly make some money, and turn your luck around," the raven-haired Jennifer said.

Camille rolled her eyes and scoffed at us.

"Thanks, but no thanks. I don't need anything from you," Camille replied.

"We'll see if you feel the same way, once you hear the proposal we have for you," I stated.

"We each bet one grand that Logan will kiss one of us before he kisses you," the brunette Jennifer explained.

Camille's eyes lit up after hearing the bet. I could practically see the dollar signs in her eyes. That was a serious chunk of change that she could potentially win. It was safe to say that her entire attitude concerning our proposal had done a complete 180.

It was a flawless plan. It was a win-win situation for us. If we won the bet, and we _will_ win the bet, we'd be one thousand dollars richer, we'll have beat Camille once again, and we will have successfully put the nail in the coffin that is Camille and Logan's relationship. In the unlikely event that we lose, we'll still be winners. Yeah, we'll have lost three thousand dollars, but it's a small price to play. First of all, money is not in short supply as far as we're concerned—unlike _some_ people. Secondly, we'll _accidentally_ let it slip to Logan about the bet Camille made with us. He'll be furious with her, and that will be the nail in the coffin that is their relationship.

"Think of all you could do with three thousand dollars," the raven-haired Jennifer said.

"Unless, of course, you're afraid you'll lose the bet," the brunette Jennifer added.

"Just think about it Camille. It's a win-win situation for you. Not only will you be three thousand dollars richer, but you'll get Logan back," I stated.

Of course, I could really care less whether or not she gets Logan back. It doesn't make any difference to me one way or the other. However, I knew that getting back in Logan's good graces was important to Camille.

I picked up on the inner turmoil Camille was currently experiencing. On the one hand, she was extremely tempted by the cash. On the other hand, she had her doubts about trusting us. Not that I could blame her. Given our…history…if roles were reversed, I wouldn't trust her either.

Regardless, I extended my hand out for her to shake should she choose to.

"Deal?" I asked.

"Deal," Camille reluctantly said, shaking my hand.

This was perfect! Camille was so gullible! She was so predictable! Things were going all according to plan. No matter who won the bet, the end result was the same, Logan and Camille would be done—for good this time. I couldn't think of a better way of sticking it to Camille.

XXXXX

The three of us were in the apartment that we shared together. We were having a strategy meeting. Making the bet was one thing. Actually winning the bet, or at the very least making it look like we were _trying_ to win the bet, was another story entirely. Quite honestly, I wasn't sure whether I wanted to throw the competition or not. It was a matter of personal preference really. It was also a matter of which outcome would stick it to Camille more.

Like the incompetent fools they were, the other two Jennifers were looking at me expectantly. It was the same story every time. I was the one who always came up with the ideas. I was the one who always had the answers. Really though, I wasn't their friend. They would be idiots if they thought I was. The truth of the matter was that I was just using them to open up more doors…for me—to get even more auditions. Some roles required two females or three females, and so we would audition together. Honestly though, I would throw them under the bus without giving it a second thought. After all, the only ones who make it in this town are those that are mean, selfish, and in it to win it.

A light bulb went off in my head. A sinister smile spread across my face. Of course! That was it! I'm a freaking genius! I never cease to amaze myself. I'm just that awesome.

"Listen up Jennifers, here's how we're going to win the bet. We're going to play the sympathy card, and get Logan to feel sorry for us—well at least two of us," I stated.

"Really?" the raven-haired Jennifer asked.

"How?" the brunette Jennifer inquired.

I felt a strong desire to slap myself on the forehead right about now. Our little arranged 'friendship' with one another wasn't mutually beneficial for everyone involved. They gained my talent, my brains, and my leadership. What did I gain from them? A big fat zero! That's what. It was hardly fair!

"We're going to stage a fight between the three of us. I'm going to pretend that I landed a role, and am choosing my career over you two. The two of you will be all sad and mopey, and get Logan to sympathize with your plight. That's when you go in for the win," I explained.

"Yeah, but how do we do that?" the raven-haired Jennifer questioned.

"Get to know him. Find some common ground. Flirt with him. Must I spell everything out for you two?" I asked, visibly annoyed.

"That shouldn't be too hard. I mean he is kind of cute. Besides, we got Carlos to come to the dark side even if it was only for a short time," the brunette Jennifer commented.

I could honestly say that I had no idea what they were talking about. They must have been talking about something the two of them did while I was in Iceland. Huh. Look at that. They actually _are_ capable of doing something without me. Who would've thunk it? Not me. That's for sure. Although, I suppose I shouldn't give them too much credit. I mean after all, they did say that they were only able to bring Carlos to the dark side for a _short_ time. Now, had it been my idea, I'm confident the outcome would've been much different.

"Yeah, but it'll be much more difficult when it comes to Logan. Remember, he's the brains of the group. Unless you play your parts perfectly, this plan won't work," I said.

"Please, we _are_ good actresses!" the brunette Jennifer exclaimed.

_Not as good as me though._

That was one thing I admired about Logan—his intelligence. I was smart, but he was smarter. In fact, in class, he was always the one who ended up setting the curve. When looking for a boyfriend, it was important for me to find someone who could keep up with—if not surpass—me intellectually.

When I thought about it, I was like each member of Big Time Rush rolled into one, but a female version. I was smart like Logan. I was a good singer like James. I was a good leader like Kendall. I was a good dancer like Carlos. However, I possessed all those qualities while each of them only possessed one of those qualities. Therefore, I was better than them.

"Come to think of it, I think it would be better if only one of you makes a move on Logan. Now, it doesn't matter which one of you it is. All that matters is that we win the bet," I said.

See, I decided that it would be more advantageous to us if we won the bet. It was a double whammy for Camille. Not only would she have to give us one thousand dollars. But she would have to witness Logan kiss one of us while she couldn't do a thing to stop it. No matter what, the end result would still be the same. It's just I like the means of getting to the end result better this way.

"I want to be the one Logan kisses!" the raven-haired Jennifer commented.

"No, me!" the brunette Jennifer whined.

"I haven't been kissed by a boy in a really long time!"

"I haven't had a boyfriend in a really long time!"

"Will you two shut up? She's the one who gets kissed by Logan," I said, pointing to the raven-haired Jennifer.

The brunette haired Jennifer folded her arms over her chest and pouted. She refused to look at me. I think she was attempting to give me the cold shoulder. Having said that, I just couldn't bring myself to actually care.

Meanwhile, the raven-haired Jennifer looked poised to literally jump for joy. There was a method to my madness though. There was a reason why I chose the raven-haired Jennifer over the brunette Jennifer. It's not because I was closer to her because truthfully, I had no preference. It was a purely strategical move; of the two of them, the brunette Jennifer was the meaner one. Therefore, the raven-haired Jennifer stood a better chance of being kissed by Logan.

"Now remember, we have to time it just right so that Logan witnesses our little altercation. Keep in mind that this is all an act, so don't take anything that comes out of my mouth personally," I stated.

The other two Jennifers nodded their heads signaling they understood.

Little did they know that it wouldn't involve much acting on my behalf. By much, I mean any. Unbeknownst to them, everything I intended on saying to them during our staged fight was precisely how I felt about them. Everything I planned on saying to them I had wanted to say to them for the longest time now. The two of them were too stupid to tell the difference though.

Los Angeles was a cruel, cruel town. Everyone here was either a minnow or a piranha. Of the three of us, there was only one piranha, and that was yours truly.

To Be Continued…

**A/N: Oddly enough, I found it pretty easy to write this from Jennifer 2's POV. Thank you, thank you, thank you for all the reviews and support! They are the fuel that keeps this story going. Wait until you see what I have planned for this story.**


	7. Father Knows Best

**A/N: Okay, now I'm on a roll. I know what I want to do at least through Chapter 8, maybe even Chapter 9. So yeah, updates shouldn't be few and far in between. I just have to flesh everything out. For those of you who have stuck by my side, you have no idea how much that means to me. I know I may have lost some followers when I didn't update for over two weeks, but for those of you who remained loyal to me, I sincerely appreciate it. Getting review alerts never fails to brighten up my day.**

**Disclaimer: Do I even really need to write anything here? You should know by now that I own nothing. Besides, who even reads this part? I bet I could write complete rubbish here, and no one will know…**

**Big Time Disaster**

_Father Knows Best_

_Camille's father's POV_

So Camille was still mad at me. I didn't understand it at all. It's not like I did anything wrong. She refused to talk to me. She refused to sit down and eat a meal with me. She refused to even be in the same room as me. The only time I got to enjoy her company was when she had to go to an audition, which lately has been very rarely. Her heart just doesn't seem to be in it anymore. I bet I know why too. Logan.

I was so infuriated by this whole situation that I wanted to pull my hair out. I had done my best to keep the two of them apart. I had done my best to get Camille to move on and forget about him. It was all in vain though. They were like one of those couples that even when they weren't together, they were together. Logan was like a little annoying cockroach. Try as I may, I couldn't squash him. He kept coming back. It was driving me crazy.

I would be lying if I said that Camille giving me the cold shoulder didn't hurt. It did. It hurt a lot. She had always been daddy's little girl. Now, for the first time, I could tell a rift was forming between the two of us. I felt her slipping away. I knew I was losing her…to _him_.

I don't know. Maybe a part of me was jealous of Logan. Camille did seem to care more about him than she did me. I guess that would explain why I resented Logan. She was growing closer to him, but at my expense. He was the reason she was slipping away from me.

My reasons for coming between the two of them weren't entirely selfish though. I really was trying to protect her from him. Nothing in the world mattered more to me than keeping her from getting hurt. He was a part of a boy band for crying out loud. He was bound to hurt her. What if he got famous and left Camille behind, or worse fell in love with someone else? Camille would be devastated. Or what if his Hollywood dream was crushed? He'd go back to Minnesota, and leave Camille behind. Once again, Camille would be devastated. So no matter what, this wasn't going to be a fairy tale ending for the two of them.

"Dad, we need to talk," Camille said.

I was actually surprised she spoke to me. Those were the first words she had said to me in days now. As elated as that made me feel, I had a sneaking suspicion that this talk would only lead to the two of us fighting with one another again. A feeling of dread came over me.

"You need to butt out of my personal life," she stated.

How dare she talk to me like that! I raised her better than this! I taught her good values! Things like respecting your elders and minding your tongue.

"Excuse me?" I replied, upset.

"I'm sixteen years old!"

"Exactly! You're still a kid! You might think you know what you want, but you don't know! You're too young to really know! Plus, I will do whatever I please. As long as you are living under my roof, you play by my rules. I'm the adult here. You have to listen to what I say!"

I couldn't stand fighting with Camille. I knew I was facing an uphill battle. I helped raise Camille. I knew that once she set her mind on something, she wouldn't stop until she got or did what she wanted. She had always been like that. She had always been stubborn. I was the same way. Maybe she got it from me.

"Why are you doing this to me?" Camille asked.

"I have no idea what you are talking about," I responded.

"You're a real piece of work, Dad!"

See? There she goes again blaming me. It's not my fault she's in this mess. If anyone is to blame, it's Logan. He's the one who has been acting all hot and cold around her. He's the reason she's been crying. He's the root of all her troubles. Typical Camille. Always overreacting. Teenagers…

"Why do you hate Logan so much?" she inquired.

"I think a better question would be why don't I hate Logan so much. That question has fewer answers," I commented.

"I hate you so much right now!"

"You'll get over it."

She would too. She was passionate about anything and everything she did. However, she couldn't maintain that level of passion all the time. In time, she'd forgive me. It might not be right now. It might not be within an hour. It might not even be today. It might not even be this week. She would forgive me though eventually. I took comfort in that.

She looked torn. A part of her looked like she wanted to stay and continue to give me a piece of her mind. The rest of her was so furious with me that she couldn't even bear to be in the same room as me, much less look at me or talk to me anymore.

"Look honey, I am your father. I know what's best for you," I said.

"No you don't! You just think you do, but you're wrong!" she retorted.

"Camille, sweetie, I know how this story ends. I've seen it time and time again with you. Logan's not the first guy you've had a crush on. There have been plenty before him. It's always the same story. You are crazy about him, but unfortunately, he's not as crazy about you. When you realize it, you spiral out of control. You become depressed. One time you were depressed for an entire month! I'm not going to let that happen again. Not on my watch!"

"You're wrong! Logan's different! With those other guys, it was an unrequited love. They didn't like me back. Logan does! Look at all he's done for me. He was the first guy to ask me out. He was the first guy to take me to a school dance. He even shot a horrible music video just so I could stay here at The Palm Woods. What other guy would do that? If that doesn't show he cares about me, if that doesn't show that he likes me, then I don't know what does."

I didn't understand what Camille was trying to accomplish by telling me those things. Was she trying to sway me? If so, she was failing miserably.

"He cares about you. He likes you. _For now_. Those are the operative words. Sooner or later, you'll scare him off just like you have all those other guys," I said. I immediately wanted to take those words back as soon as they left my mouth.

"How could you say that? So, I'm the one to blame?" Camille replied.

"That's not what I meant!"

"It sure sounded like it to me!"

I grabbed her shoulder as she turned around to leave the room. She flinched from the contact. Then, she proceeded to roughly shove me backwards.

"Don't touch me! Don't talk to me!" Camille exclaimed hysterically.

"Sweetie—"

"Don't 'Sweetie' me! You are no longer my best friend! You are no longer my dad! You are nothing to me!"

I stood there and watched as Camille walked out the front door, slamming the door shut behind her. This was bad. This was really bad. I couldn't stomach the thought that this time, I might have lost my daughter for good. I had a pretty good idea where Camille was going—or rather who she was going to go see. Logan.

I pulled out my cell phone. Desperate times called for desperate measures. What I had in mind would probably make Camille hate me even more. According to her though, I was nothing to her, so you can't get much worse than that. I had nothing to lose, and everything to gain.

I was a man of connections. I had acquaintances from practically all walks of life. Even here in Los Angeles I had connections. There were former classmates here. There were former friends here. There were people who owed me favors here—favors I was ready to cash in on.

As it turned out, I happened to have a lawyer friend who owed me such a favor. I called him up to have some paperwork drawn. Once this particular document was signed, sealed, and delivered, Camille would have no choice but to leave Logan alone once and for all.

XXXXX

_3__rd__ Person Omniscient POV_

Camille went to Apartment 2J to see Logan. When she knocked on the door, she was hoping one of three people would answer—Mrs. Knight, Carlos, or Logan. When the door opened, it was none of those people. It was Kendall.

"Can I see Logan?" I asked.

"No," Kendall replied as if it was the most obvious answer in the world.

"Look, I know you're mad at me—"

"You bet I'm mad at you!"

"If you'd just let me explain—"

"Save your breath!"

Camille wasn't blind. Camille wasn't oblivious. She was fully aware that the bond Kendall shared with Logan rivaled the bond that she shared with Logan. She knew that Kendall was fiercely protective of Logan. Camille realized that she'd have a far better chance had James answered the door.

"Well, I'm not leaving until I talk to Logan," Camille said, folding her arms over her chest.

"Well, then I guess you won't be leaving. Have fun waiting outside the door," Kendall remarked before slamming the door shut in her face.

Camille knew that Kendall was mad at her. Unbeknownst to her though, Kendall had been trying to persuade Logan to forget about her and move on. All the while her father had been in her ear about ending things with Logan, Kendall had been in Logan's ear about ending things with Camille.

She pulled out her cell phone. She dialed the number she had memorized by heart.

"_Camille_?" Logan answered.

"Logan! How are you? I heard about your ankle. I've been wanting to see you. I'm right outside your front door now, but Kendall won't let me in," Camille stated.

"_I've been wanting to see you too_."

Both teenagers were like star crossed lovers. Both of their hearts swelled with a great sense of hope upon hearing that they both had been wanting to see each other. No matter what or who tried to get in their way, Camille and Logan were bound and determined to work things out.

"_Hold on, okay? Kendall!_" Logan shouted.

Afterwards, Logan must've put his hand over the phone because Camille couldn't make out what was going on between Kendall and Logan. All she heard on the other end was silence.

"Why won't you let Camille in?" Logan asked.

"She's not welcome here," Kendall replied.

"Maybe not by you, but I would like to see her."

Carlos entered the bedroom that the four boys shared with one another.

"What's going on? I heard yelling," Carlos said.

"Camille stopped by. She's actually waiting outside the door as we speak. Carlos, talk some sense into Logan. Tell him it's a mistake letting her in," Kendall instructed.

"Why would I do that? I think he _should_ talk to Camille," Carlos replied.

Kendall's eyes widened in horror. Even Logan was surprised by Carlos's response.

"Are you crazy? Did you hit you head when you weren't wearing your helmet or something?" Kendall commented.

"No. He likes Camille. She likes him. They both want to work things out. Who am I to come between that?" Carlos asked.

Kendall was completely beside himself. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. It was bad enough that Logan wasn't willing to give up on Camille. Now Carlos was siding with her too? What on Earth was going on?

"Have you forgotten all that she's done to Logan, Carlos? She broke up with him. She kissed another guy. He was thinking about her when he sprained his ankle. Now I don't know about you, but I am not going to just sit back and watch as she hurts him again!" Kendall exclaimed.

"There are two sides to every story, Kendall! Have you even given Camille a chance to explain her side of the story?" Carlos asked.

Kendall averted his gaze, breaking the eye contact he had with Carlos. That was all the answer Carlos needed though.

Meanwhile, outside the door to Apartment 2J, a man in a suit walked up to the door, and knocked. Camille had never seen this guy before in her life, yet she had a bad feeling about him.

Kendall left Carlos and Logan to go answer the door.

"Camille, I told you that you can't see—" Kendall started to say before he saw that it wasn't Camille on the other side of the door. It was some guy in a suit. "Logan."

Kendall noticed that the stranger had an envelope in his hand.

"Logan Mitchell?" the guy in a suit asked.

"No," Kendall replied. "Hey, Logan? There's some guy at the door asking for you!"

Logan hobbled over to the front door on his crutches. Neither Logan nor Kendall quite knew what to think about this strange development.

"Logan Mitchell?" the stranger said to Logan.

"Yeah," Logan answered meekly.

The stranger pressed the envelope against Logan's chest. He had little choice but to take the envelope from the guy in the suit.

"You've been served," the stranger said, before turning around and leaving.

Carlos had wasted little time joining Kendall and Logan at the front door. He had heard everything. The three best friends stood there stunned. Logan eyed the envelope in his shaking hand. Even Camille was curious. She stood in the doorway of the still open door.

"What is that?" Camille asked, breaking the silence.

"I don't know," Logan replied. "I'm afraid to find out."

Three pairs of eyes were trained on Logan. He mustered up his courage, and opened up the envelope. He unfolded the piece of paper inside, and skimmed it. He let out a gasp.

"Well?" Kendall prodded.

"It's a restraining order. I'm not supposed to come within fifty feet of Camille," Logan answered.

To Be Continued…

**A/N: Ha! Bet you didn't see that coming. Or maybe you did. I don't know. Anyways, oddly enough, I'm really enjoying writing Camille's father. I just have no idea why. He's so mean. Let me know what you think.**


	8. Going Under

**Disclaimer: I am not making a profit by writing this. I do not own Big Time Rush. I am not telling you anything you don't already know.**

**Big Time Disaster**

_Going Under_

_Carlos's POV_

Life wasn't fair. Camille and Logan belonged together, but thanks to Camille's dad, Logan couldn't get within fifty feet of Camille. Logan was really smart. He always had the answers. However, this time, he didn't. It actually looked like he was giving up altogether.

Logan had thrown in the towel. He raised a white flag. It sucked. I wanted him to keep fighting. I wanted him to not give up on Camille. To tell you the truth, he was starting to scare me with his new behavior. He never ate or drank anything because he claimed that he wasn't hungry or thirsty. He didn't want to go down the swirly slide with me. He didn't want to play dome hockey with us. He always declined playing the Xbox 360 with us. He didn't want to do anything anymore. Everything he used to like doing with us, all of a sudden, he _didn't_ like doing with us.

Kendall was always there whenever Logan needed a shoulder to cry on, but I knew that secretly, Kendall was enjoying this. He had been strongly against Logan and Camille getting together from day one. Back when James and I threw the 'Hollywood Super Party Kings of Hollywood' party, Logan went to Kendall for advice on what to do about Camille. Kendall had told Logan that he should just tell her he wants to be friends and nothing else. Luckily, Logan didn't listen to Kendall; he listened to Jo. Now, however, even Jo was against Logan and Camille. It was Camille she had a problem with. I had no idea how she could do that to Camille though. If I went through a similar situation with Kendall, James, and Logan, I would never turn my back on them.

While Kendall was strongly against Logan and Camille getting back together, I was strongly for Logan and Camille getting back together. No one quite knew where James stood on the matter. All we knew was that he was somewhere in between. It's just we didn't know whether he was closer to siding with Kendall or me.

One thing all three of us agreed on was that we hated seeing Logan so defeated. Everyone could tell that it was eating him up inside. He desperately wanted to see Camille—to patch things up with her. His hands were tied though. That wasn't an option. Logan was a law-abiding citizen. There was no way he would violate the terms of the restraining order. He wouldn't even let Kendall, James, and me jaywalk; he always made us use the crosswalk. He always picked up after us if we littered.

It was just me and Logan in the apartment at the moment. We had all agreed that Logan shouldn't be left alone. If it wasn't for me, Logan would be alone. Kendall was off with Jo. James was off with Rachael a.k.a. Sunblock Girl. Katie was off trying to prove that she was better than Mr. Bitters. Mrs. Knight was off on errands. Don't get me wrong. It's not that I minded being with Logan. I had no problem with it at all. It's just that it's strange how everyone else is too busy to spend time with Logan, especially when he needs us now more than ever.

I walked into the bedroom that the four of us shared together. I saw Logan lying on his bed, facing the wall. A box of Kleenexes was sitting next to him. Used tissues were strewn all over his bed and on the floor. I was really starting to get worried. It wasn't like Logan to just leave things messy. It wasn't like Logan to not pick up after himself. It was like he just didn't care anymore.

"Hey, Logan," I said, my voice unsteady.

I didn't receive an answer. In fact, Logan didn't even acknowledge that I had said anything to him to begin with. He just stared at the wall with a far-off look on his face.

"Are you hungry or thirsty? I could get you something to eat or drink if you want," I offered.

I still received no answer. I was really starting to worry. This wasn't like Logan at all. I don't know who this was laying on the bed before me, but it sure wasn't my best friend.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I asked.

He hadn't answered me before, so I don't why I expected anything different this time. Yet again, he remained silent. I wanted so badly to help Logan. I wanted so badly to fix Logan. I just had no idea where to even begin. Truthfully, I didn't know if it was even possible. I've never felt so useless. I've never felt so helpless. I just wanted my best friend back.

"Logan, you have to keep fighting. You can't just give up," I stated.

"What other choice do I have?" Logan snapped back.

I let out a small gasp. I don't know what surprised me more—the fact that Logan actually answered me or that he was yelling at me. Logan never yelled at me. He never yelled at anybody really. In a weird way, it was somewhat nice to see some sort of emotion come from him, even if it was anger.

I shrugged my shoulders. "I don't know, but you have to try. You'll find a solution. You always do," I replied.

"Don't you get it, Carlos? It's over! Camille's dad won!" Logan screamed.

I didn't want to stay and get yelled at anymore by Logan. Deep down, I knew it wasn't me that he was mad at. Still though, he was yelling at me. At the same time, I didn't want to leave Logan either. Someone needed to be there for him.

This was wrong. It was so wrong it wasn't even funny. It couldn't end like this. This couldn't be the end. Logan and Camille deserved one another. They fit together perfectly. She helped him to loosen up and not be so cautious. He helped her to stay grounded. I had known Logan practically forever, and I have never seen him happier than he was with Camille. He's been on double dates before, but those other girls weren't Camille.

"Logan, let me help you. I don't know how exactly, but tell me what to do, and I'll do it," I said.

"You can't help me Carlos. No one can," Logan responded. Even his voice didn't sound like it was his. His tone was dull and lifeless.

"Logan—"

"Go away Carlos."

"But I—"

"Go away!"

I was taken aback by Logan's outburst. I kept reminding myself that Logan didn't mean it. I told myself over and over again not to take it personally. It was no use though. My bottom lip quivered, and I quickly left the room.

I was much too sensitive for my own good. I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. My knees were shaking. My heart was racing. I had difficulty breathing in between the sobs I was trying to choke back. Logan didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve any of this. So why was this happening to him? He was one of the good guys.

Logan needed help. He needed some serious help. I barely even recognized him anymore. As much as I wanted to help him, I knew that I couldn't do this on my own. He never left the apartment. For that matter, he never even left the bedroom except to go to the bathroom, which wasn't that often considering how he wasn't eating or drinking anything.

Kendall, James, and I continued with rehearsal. Logan couldn't practice the dance choreography with us because of his ankle. The doctors strongly advised him not to engage in any physical activity until his ankle had healed. Logan's ankle wasn't the only thing that needed healing though. Logan needed healing as well. Gustavo was surprisingly understanding, and let Logan have some time off. I was just worried that if Logan took too much time off, Gustavo would replace him or make Big Time Rush a trio.

That's pretty ridiculous, huh? Out of all the things I should be worried about, I was worried about the future of the band. It's just we had agreed that we were all in this together. I couldn't imagine Big Time Rush without Logan in it. I didn't want to imagine Big Time Rush without Logan in it.

There was a call I knew I had to make. I got out my cell phone and dialed.

"_Carlos? Is everything okay? How's Logan?_" Camille asked.

"It's bad, Camille. It's really bad. I'm scared. He won't eat or drink anything. He doesn't want to do anything. He won't leave the apartment. He won't even leave his bedroom. He's not getting any sleep. I've tried to talk to him, but he just yells at me," I answered.

Hearing me say all those things out loud just made the pain that much worse.

"_I'm sorry to hear that Carlos. Really, I am. I wish I could help, but thanks to the restraining order, I can't,_" Camille said.

No, no, no. Not Camille too. Please don't tell me she was giving up. This isn't real. This can't be happening. I was freaking out inside. It was bad enough that Logan sounded so defeated. Now Camille sounded just as defeated.

"Can't you do something? Anything? What if you talk to your dad and get him to drop the restraining order?" I asked.

"_He won't. My dad hates Logan. Besides, I'm not exactly on speaking terms with my dad at the moment,_" Camille answered.

"You never know until you try. Please try Camille. If not for me, then for Logan."

I didn't get it at all. How could Camille's dad hate Logan? How could anyone hate Logan? He's one of the nicest guys on the face of this planet. I was somewhat irritated with Camille too. It sounded to me like it was more important for her to hold onto her grudge than to help Logan.

"_I'll try. I can't make any promises though,_" Camille said.

I'm not sure why, but I got the impression that she wasn't even going to try very hard to begin with. She might not even try at all. She probably was just saying she would to satisfy me. Once she hung up though, nothing would be done. Weird. I kind of sounded like Logan.

"Ooh! Do you want to talk to Logan? Maybe hearing your voice will help," I suggested.

"_I don't think that's a very good idea, Carlos," _she replied.

"What? Why not?"

"_It'll be too painful for me to hear his voice, especially if he's as bad off as you say he is._"

I didn't know what to make of Camille's statement. Did she think I was lying about how bad Logan was doing? Why would I do that? I had no reason to. I happened to like my idea. It couldn't hurt. Why then didn't Camille want to at least give it a shot? What about Logan's pain? If talking to her could take away his pain even for a few moments, wasn't that worth it to Camille?

"Come on Camille. Please? I know you want to talk to him. I know he wants to talk to you too," I commented.

"…_Okay,_" Camille said.

I was giddy with excitement. I couldn't believe my idea could actually work. I was in such a hurry to hand Logan my cell phone that I nearly tripped over myself.

"Carlos, I thought I told you to…" Logan started to say.

"Camille wants to talk to you," I said, before Logan could finish.

His eyes lit up. That was the first sign of life his eyes had expressed since he had been served with a restraining order. Hope. Excitement. Happiness. Bliss. I could practically feel those emotions coming off Logan in waves. I handed Logan my cell phone.

"Camille? It's so good to hear your voice!" Logan beamed.

I wished I could hear the conversation between the two of them. I could only hear one side of it though—Logan' side. I knew I should give the two of them some privacy, yet I remained rooted in place.

"I don't know. I just haven't been hungry or thirsty," Logan admitted.

I knew getting Camille and Logan to talk to each other over the phone was a good idea. I was right. It definitely looked like it was helping Logan.

"All right. All right. I promise to take better care of myself," Logan said.

I sighed a huge sigh of relief. Words couldn't even express how grateful I was to Camille that she was able to fix that problem. I didn't know if I could have taken anymore of Logan not taking care of himself.

"Do you really think that will work though? I mean your father isn't exactly my biggest fan," Logan remarked.

Camille must have told Logan about how she was going to try to convince her dad to drop the restraining order. It was a long shot. I knew that. However, Kendall, James, Logan, and I making it as a boy band was also a long shot. Look how that turned out.

"Emancipate yourself? What are you talking about, Camille? Are you sure you want to do that?" Logan asked.

Now I really wished I could hear what Camille was saying. It was like I was missing an important piece of the puzzle. I just heard something about emancipation. I wasn't even sure what that word meant. I never was good with big words.

"I know. I miss you too. You're right. This does suck," Logan remarked.

At least Logan's voice wasn't monotone anymore. It was like he had come back to life again. I couldn't be any happier. It looked like I might be getting my best friend back after all.

"What's wrong? What do you mean you have to go? Camille? Camille!" Logan shouted.

To Be Continued…

**A/N: To tell you the truth, this wasn't the original Chapter 8 I had planned. I just felt that after the last chapter, Chapter 7, it was necessary to devote a chapter to Logan's reaction to getting slapped with a restraining order. Now, I feel like my original Chapter 8 is going to be pushed back another chapter, and will end up being Chapter 10. Chapter 9 will continue where this Chapter 8 left off. Over 100 reviews and over 4,000 hits? Wow! Just wow! I don't know what to say. I'm speechless. I know I probably sound like a broken record, but all I can think to say is thank you so, so much!**


	9. Dropping the Bomb

**A/N: Every time I see Kendall pushing carts (i.e. Big Time Audition, Big Time Concert), I think to myself, "Hey, that's what I do for a living!" Yeah, I know. I'm a weird one.**

**Disclaimer: I am secretly affiliated with Nickelodeon. This means that in a way, I do kind of sort of own Big Time Rush. Kidding. No, really. Please don't slap me with a lawsuit. You won't get anything. I assure you.**

**Big Time Disaster**

_Dropping the Bomb_

_Camille's POV_

In a frantic hurry, I pushed 'End Call.' My father had just walked into the apartment. I didn't want him to know that it was Logan I was talking to on the other end. Let's face it. My father isn't exactly Logan's biggest fan.

"Who was that you were talking to?" my dad asked, suspicious.

"Carlos," I lied. It wasn't a _total_ lie though. I had been talking to Carlos; before I talked to Logan that is.

My father didn't look convinced. In fact, he looked even more suspicious than before. I froze in my tracks, and swallowed a lump that was beginning to form in my throat. Usually, I was much better at lying than this. Usually, my father bought my lies. Maybe I answered too quickly or something.

"Oh really? Then why were you in such a hurry to hang up the phone?" my father inquired.

"It's just I'd been talking to Carlos for a while now, and I know how much you hate it when I use up all of our minutes," I fibbed.

It was true. Well, the part about my dad hating it when I use up all of our minutes. See, the two of us are on the same family plan with our cell phone company. We don't have the unlimited minute plan, so we only have so many minutes.

"You know what I think? I think it was Logan that you were talking to. That is why you were so quick to hang up when you saw me walk through the front door," my dad stated.

I snickered. "Jeez Dad. Paranoid much? You know, my world doesn't revolve around Logan; even though you might think it does," I replied.

"Well, if that's true, then you should have no problem giving me your cell phone so that I can check your recent calls."

I happily obliged. I had nothing to hide. In fact, this was perfect. My most recent call shown was Carlos which backed up my little white lie. I handed my father my cell phone all the while trying to hide the triumphant grin that I feared would spread across my face.

"Let's see. Recent calls. Carlos," my father said, speaking to himself out loud.

"See? And you didn't believe me," I remarked.

My father gave me back my cell phone. He had an apologetic look on his face, but we both knew that he would never outright apologize to me. He was much too prideful for that. It was okay though. I had come to terms with that a long time ago.

"I think you need to take a break from Logan. I feel like you're neglecting your other friends. What about Jo? I haven't seen her around lately," my dad said.

I frowned. The last thing I needed was to be reminded of my failed friendship with my _former_ best girlfriend, Jo.

"Jo and I haven't…been seeing eye to eye lately," I explained.

"Well, I'm sure it's nothing an apology can't fix," my father commented.

"I seriously doubt she'll be apologizing to me anytime soon."

"No. What I meant was an apology from you."

"From me? I didn't do anything wrong! She's the one who turned her back on me!"

I was practically screaming at my father now. There was no other person on the face of the planet that could get under my skin the way my dad could. He knew precisely the right buttons to push. He knew exactly what made me tick.

It really was a testament to the rapport I now had with my father. Back when my father was my best friend, he would never take Jo's side over mine, especially without even hearing the whole story first.

"I don't know what happened. Quite honestly, I don't _want_ to know what happened. It's not important. All that matters is that you need to take the high road. You need to be the bigger person, and apologize to her," he said.

Now I could see right through him. He couldn't be any more transparent. I saw what angle he was trying to work now. Somewhere amidst the jumble of words he just said was a backhanded compliment.

"Not until she apologizes to me first," I responded stubbornly.

My father let out an exasperated sigh. He obviously didn't even care whether or not I heard his exasperated sigh either. It was hardly subtle.

"Well what about Carlos?" he asked.

"What about Carlos?" I replied, confused.

"The two of you are friends, right? He's single, yeah?"

I couldn't believe my ears. My father was trying to set me up…with Carlos. I knew he didn't like Logan, but this, words couldn't even begin to describe.

"Dad, I don't like Carlos like that!" I exclaimed.

"You never know until you try," my father replied.

"How can you like Carlos and not Logan? Carlos is in a boy band too! The same boy band Logan's in! Carlos plays hockey too! I know what this is really about. You just don't like Logan. This grand master plan of yours won't work Dad! I'm not even on Carlos's radar when it comes to potential girlfriends. He likes the Jennifers, the Simms Twins, and Stephanie. Besides, he would never do that to Logan, and neither would I!"

"It sounds to me like you're bummed you're not on Carlos's radar."

"I'm not bummed!"

"You sounded bummed."

"Well, I'm not!"

The truth of the matter was that I wasn't the least bit offended that Carlos didn't see me like that. At least I didn't think he did. I was so accustomed to boys not being interested in me, that in a way, I kind of came to expect it. That was one of the things that made Logan so special to me. He actually _was_ interested in me. He was a part of a rare breed.

"Look honey, I realize Carlos and Logan have some things in common. However, they are also two entirely different people," my dad said.

Great, now he was calling me 'honey.' I thought the two of us were fighting?

"Hear me out. Logan's smart. Carlos…isn't exactly the sharpest tool in the shed. Logan gets scared easily. Carlos is fearless. Logan's…boring. Carlos is fun-loving. Logan is pessimistic. Carlos is optimistic. Logan couldn't protect you in a fight. Carlos could…" my dad said, listing off one comparison after another.

"Let me stop you right there, Dad. I think I've heard enough," I remarked.

It was so insulting the things he said about Logan. Had Logan heard what my dad was saying about him, I'm sure he would have been insulted as well. For the life of me, I couldn't understand why my father thought so little of Logan. About the only _good_ thing my father said about Logan was that he was smart. I'm sure my father didn't even view that as a good thing. He probably much rather I didn't date someone who was smarter than him. That way he couldn't outthink my father.

"Camille, have a seat," my dad instructed.

"I think I'll stand!" I responded, my voice dripping with disdain.

"I want to tell you a story about when I was your age, Camille."

See? Now he wasn't even calling me 'honey.' So much for pleasantries.

"Not interested," I muttered.

"I know you might find this hard to believe, but I know _exactly_ what you are going through. How do I know? I know because I went through a similar situation with your mother when we were your age. See, your mom and I started dating when we were sixteen. We were madly in love with one another. The only problem was that my parents didn't approve of my mother. Regardless, the two of us continued to see each other. I would even go so far as to sneak out in the middle of the night and climb through her second-floor bedroom window just to see her. Your mom and I eventually got married when we were eighteen. A little while later, we had you," my father recalled.

I was completely and utterly speechless. I was baffled. How could my father disapprove of Logan so strongly when he went through pretty much the exact same thing with his parents when he was my age?

"That's why I'm putting my foot down with you. That's why I'm breaking the cycle," my dad said.

"You're not breaking the cycle! You're letting it continue!" I exclaimed.

Now I kind of understood my father's actions. He had learned everything about parenting from his parents. His parents had disapproved of my mom and him, and now he was disapproving of me and Logan.

"You're wrong. I'm breaking the cycle, Camille. You just don't see it. If you remember, I had said that your mother and I _were _madly in love with one another. Past tense. We aren't anymore. Don't get me wrong. It started out as love. It really did. However, it was out of spite that I married your mother. It was out of spite that I got your mother pregnant. I fear you are headed down the same path. After all, you _are _my daughter. That's just not fair to Logan or to you," my father said.

I literally felt sick to my stomach. This was too much information to take in. This was too much information to bear. My parents weren't in love with each other anymore? Why hadn't they gotten a divorce then? Why are they still married to one another? I was brought into this world as a result of my father's spite? So, did my father view my birth as a mistake then? My world was spinning around me. I felt incredibly dizzy and light-headed.

"I told you that you should have taken a seat," my father remarked, as he grabbed hold of my arm to keep me from toppling over.

"Don't touch me! I can't even stand to look at you right now!" I shrieked, shaking myself free from my father's grasp.

I ran to my bedroom, and slammed the door shut behind me. I collapsed onto my bed, and buried my face in my pillow and screamed. Then, the tears began pouring out of my eyes.

Myriad thoughts raced through my mind at one time. I could hardly make sense of them all. My parents didn't love each other anymore? How could I not have seen this? What did this mean? Were they getting a divorce? Would there be some sort of custody battle over me? I didn't want to choose between my mother and my father. What kind of a choice was that? If you asked me one month ago, the choice would have been an easy one—my father. Of course, one month ago I thought my parents still loved each other.

Was I destined to become just like my father? Like father, like daughter. I was madly in love with Logan. My dad disapproved. Would that mean that I too would get married out of spite? Would that mean I would have a child with Logan out of spite? I hated to admit it, but my dad was right. That wasn't fair to me. It especially wasn't fair to Logan. He deserved much, much better than that.

Maybe there was something to my dad trying to keep me and Logan apart. Maybe I do need to break the cycle. I never thought I'd say this, but I don't want to be just like my dad. Not _this_ dad. I didn't even recognize him anymore. Who was he? He wasn't the amazing man I looked up to and idolized as a little girl.

When were my parents planning on telling me that they didn't love each other anymore? Wait a second. Is that the real reason my mother stayed behind in Connecticut? She had told me that she couldn't afford to have three of us move out to California. She had told me that she couldn't just up and leave. She had her job to consider. Was that all a lie? Had my mother been lying to me this whole time too? Could I even believe anything that either of my parents said to me anymore?

I was so grief stricken. It felt like my world was falling apart all around me. I was overcome by a whirlwind of emotions. Sadness. Anger. Fear. Betrayal. Disappointment. With every passing second, every fleeting moment, I was experiencing a different emotion than the last second, the last moment.

One of the worst parts was that I was finally succumbing to an overwhelming feeling of doubt. My feelings for Logan had started out as sincere and genuine. Then, my father and I started butting heads with each other, now were my feelings for Logan so sincere? Were they so genuine? Or was my father right? Had this become more about spite?

The truth of the matter was that had my father approved of Logan, things would be so much easier. I definitely wouldn't be behaving like I'd been behaving recently. I felt like I was losing my mind. Every word I said, every action I did, in the back of my mind, I considered how my father would react. How angry would it make him? He knew how to push my buttons, but I also knew how to push his. Was that what it had come to? Is that all I cared about anymore—pushing his buttons?

I had already broken Logan's heart once. I would no doubt break his heart again. I was merely delaying the inevitable. He would hate me. He would never forgive me. He would never speak to me again. I would lose him forever. I couldn't stomach the thought of that. A world without Logan wasn't a world I wanted to live in. If I couldn't have him as a boyfriend, if I couldn't have him as a friend, if I couldn't have him at all, then what was the point of even living?

I care for Logan. I love him even. I'm just afraid that I care about spiting my dad more.

To Be Continued…

**A/N: I am seriously my own worst critic. This is actually the third draft of Chapter 9. I couldn't quite get it to my liking. However, this is I feel the best draft of the three. I think it is chalk full of angst. It also went in a completely different direction than the other two drafts. To all my readers and reviewers, I sincerely appreciate all your support. I'm genuinely floored by the response this story is garnering. I can't believe you would like something from little ol' me so much.**


	10. Lights, Camera, Action

**A/N: The idea for this chapter, as I've said before, was supposed to be the original Chapter 8. After doing a little bit of research, I am finally able to tell the Jennifers apart. Jennifer 2 is the blonde one. Jennifer 1 is the brunette. Jennifer 3 is the one with curly black hair. The reason I'm telling you this is because I'm getting sick of referring to them as "the blonde Jennifer" or "the brunette Jennifer." I just don't want you to be confused.**

**Disclaimer: This is the freaking tenth chapter! Do I even need to say anything here? I didn't think so.**

**Big Time Disaster**

_Lights, Camera, Action_

_Jennifer 1's POV_

The other two Jennifers and I were having a stakeout in the Palm Woods lobby. Sooner or later, Logan would have to come through here, and that was the cue we were waiting for. Then, our plan would be set in motion. Our objective was simple enough—get Logan to feel sorry for us; sorry enough that he would kiss one of us so that we would win the bet we made with Camille. It was always wise to have all the bases covered, and we did. If Logan kisses Camille first, then we would tell him about the bet she made with us. She would pocket three grand, but we would be the true winners. Causing Camille to lose the one thing she cares more about than acting was worth much more than three thousand dollars.

We finally saw Logan on his crutches hobble his way into the lobby. He wasn't alone though. Carlos was with him. When we came up with this plan that was something we failed to take into consideration. Jennifer 3 and I looked at Jennifer 2, who nodded her head.

"I can't believe you're doing this to us! _Again_!" I yelled at Jennifer 2.

"Yeah, I thought you were our friend!" Jennifer 3 screamed.

Jennifer 2 scoffed. She had an amused expression on her face. "Puh-lease! I am not your friend! I never have been, and I never will be! Although I must admit that the two of you aren't entirely worthless to me. After all, I have been using you so that I could get more auditions," Jennifer 1 stated.

I know this was a staged fight and all, but I kind of felt like Jennifer 2 was getting a little too much into character. I was aware how good of an actress she was, but was she even acting at all? Or was this how she truly felt about us? This worried me.

"You've been using us this whole time? How could you?" Jennifer 3 asked.

"It's easy when you don't care one iota about the people you are using. The two of you are nothing more than pawns to me. Who cares about the pawns? They're the first to get sacrificed," Jennifer 2 said.

I was caught off guard by the conviction with which Jennifer 2 was delivering her lines. We hadn't gone over precisely what we would say to each other in our little staged fight; we were just winging it. I knew I should probably say something right now, but frankly, I was at a loss for words.

"What's wrong? Cat got your tongue, Jennifer?" Jennifer 2 asked, getting in my face.

A little known fact was that I have always had this resentment, this animosity towards Jennifer 2. She thought of herself as the leader of our group. I viewed myself as just as capable of being the leader as she was. However, I was the one in her shadow.

"You just think you're so great, don't you?" I retorted, not backing down an inch.

"Oh, I don't _think_ I'm great. I _know_ I'm great," Jennifer 2 replied.

"Get over yourself," I muttered under my breath.

Carlos interjected himself in between the three of us.

"Ladies, ladies. Let's not fight. Everyone think happy thoughts about kittens," Carlos suggested.

I looked over and saw Logan frozen in his tracks. He had a confused look on his face. I could tell he didn't quite know what to make of us Jennifers bickering with one another. I won't lie. I was disappointed that it wasn't Logan who was trying to break our fight up. There was still hope yet though.

"Why don't you mind your own business? This doesn't concern you!" Jennifer 2 spat.

Her words to Carlos struck a chord with me. Don't get me wrong. I didn't have feelings for Carlos or anything like that. Heck, he and I weren't even friends, though he might like to think we were. It's just it's one thing her talking to us Jennifers like that, but it wasn't necessary to talk to Carlos like that.

"Don't talk to him like that!" I exclaimed.

I couldn't help but notice that Carlos did a double take once he realized that I had come to his aid. The other two Jennifers and Logan were also surprised. Heck, I even surprised myself.

"I'll talk to him however I want to talk to him, and there's not a thing you can do about it," Jennifer 2 said, poking me hard in the chest with every word she spoke.

I lost sight of what we were supposed to be doing here. Instead, I was furious with Jennifer 2. I wanted nothing more but to wrap my hands around her throat and wring her neck. All those months of pent up frustration and animosity was starting to come to a head.

Jennifer 3 must have noticed the rage building in my eyes, as she got between me and Jennifer 2. She held me back before I did something I might end up regretting. Or maybe did something that she had coming for a long time now.

"The two of you are nothing without me. I'm the smartest. I'm the prettiest. I'm the leader. I'm the best singer. I'm the best dancer. I'm just better than you, period. After all, I landed that soap opera role in Iceland, not you two. Plus, I landed a role in a major motion picture that is filming in New York City. Meanwhile, what are the two of you doing? That's right. You've got roles in low budget films that won't ever get out of obscurity. You've got parts in television shows that will get canceled after only airing the pilot episode. You appear in commercials that nobody will ever see. Face it. The two of you are losers," Jennifer 2 remarked.

Now my blood really was boiling. She has some nerve saying those things to us. What, does she have some sort of death wish? If so, be careful what you wish for, _Jennifer_.

"So that's it? You're choosing your career over us? After everything we've been through together, you're just going to leave us high and dry?" Jennifer 3 asked, her eyes brimming with tears; I wasn't sure if they were real tears or not to be completely honest.

"That's hardly a decision at all! I'd choose my career each and every time! A decision means that there is a chance that each outcome could happen. However, there is absolutely no chance that I would ever choose _you_ over my career!" Jennifer 2 remarked, her voice dripping with venom upon saying the word 'you.'

Frankly, I would do the same thing if the opportunity presented itself. Like we told Carlos back when he was our temporary Jennifer fill-in, the only people who make it in this town are those that are mean, selfish, and in it to win it. I didn't come to this town to make friends. However, I had made two of them. I found two girls who were so much like me; it was like we were long lost sisters or something. So maybe I wouldn't do the same thing if the opportunity presented itself. Well actually, let me rephrase that. I would choose my career over Jennifer 2, but not over Jennifer 3.

"Well, guess what? The feeling is mutual!" I retorted.

"You are way out of line!" Jennifer 2 remarked.

"You want to talk about out of line? Take a look in the mirror!"

For the first time, I finally got it. At last, I understood how Logan must have felt when Camille broke up with him. I now knew what it felt like to be betrayed by someone you _thought_ was your friend. As much as I hated Jennifer 2, Jennifer 3 was right; we had been through so much together. It was hard to just completely forget about all of that. It was difficult to let her go. Maybe that was why Logan and Camille kept going back to one another.

"You want so badly to be just like me, don't you? In theatre, there is a term for people like you—they're called understudies," Jennifer 2 said.

"Don't flatter yourself! I have absolutely no desire to be anything like you!" I fired back, teeth clenched.

"Keep telling yourself that."

I had a change of heart. It was difficult to let her go. Screw that! If she wants to choose her career over us, if she wants to throw our friendship out the window, then fine! See if I care!

"Okay, what is going on here? I thought the three of you were friends," Logan commented.

Finally, he joined our 'conversation' for lack of a better term.

"Ha! Puh-lease! I would never stoop so low as to be friends with those two!" Jennifer 2 remarked.

"She got her big break, and now she's leaving The Palm Woods," Jennifer 3 said, pointing at Jennifer 2.

"That's right. The two of you can't ride my coattails any longer!"

Okay, I had never met anyone as conceited and egotistical as Jennifer 2 in all my life. I get that she's a good actress and all. I get that you need to have confidence in yourself. This wasn't confidence though. This was cockiness. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, Jennifer 3 and I were talented actresses in our own right.

"We don't need you anyways! We'll be just fine on our own. Right, Jennifer?" I asked Jennifer 3.

I detected doubt and uncertainty in Jennifer 3 that probably mirrored the doubt and uncertainty that I felt at the moment. Sure, I was talking a big game, but when it came down to it, Jennifer 3 and I really didn't know what we were capable of without Jennifer 2. Maybe she was right. Maybe we were nothing without her. We were good actresses, yes, but Jennifer 2 had been there through all of that. She was a constant.

"We all know the answer to that question is 'no.' In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if it wasn't long before the two of you have to leave The Palm Woods. Only not because you got your big break, but because your Hollywood dreams got crushed," Jennifer 2 said.

Now, Jennifer 3's eyes weren't just brimming with tears, they were falling freely down her cheeks. I was upset too, but I wasn't about to give Jennifer 2 the satisfaction of seeing me cry. I bit my lip and choked back the tears that threatened to spill from my eyes.

"If you're going to leave, then leave already! Oh, and one more thing," I said, before walking over and snatching a smoothie from a Palm Woods resident. I threw the smoothie in Jennifer 2's face. "There's my farewell gift to you."

Carlos's jaw dropped, and his eyes bugged out over what I just did to Jennifer 2. Jennifer 2 stamped her foot on the ground, let out a frustrated scream, and then stormed off to undoubtedly get the smoothie out of her hair.

I must say that it felt strangely satisfying to throw a smoothie in Jennifer 2's face. She's just lucky that's all I did. Having said that, it was only a temporary relief from the pain my heart was in. It was like trying to use a tiny Band-Aid to cover a foot long cut. It just wasn't enough.

"For what it's worth, I really am sorry about all of this," Logan commented.

There was a mutual understanding between me and Logan that we weren't friends. The only reason we were in their music video "The City Is Ours" was because Carlos thought we were his friends. Or he's interested in us romantically. Or…well, really, who knows what goes on in that helmet-covered head of his? The point was that if not for Carlos, we wouldn't have even got a part in Big Time Rush's music video.

"I don't want your pity! Nor do I need it!" I exclaimed.

Logan looked genuinely hurt that I snapped at him. For a split second, I felt bad for snapping at him like I did. Then, just like that, it passed.

"You're so sweet. Thanks," Jennifer 3 said to Logan.

That's when it dawned on me. The bet. I had got so caught up in my resentment of Jennifer 2 that I completely forgot about the bet we had made with Camille. I wanted to slap myself on the forehead, for I knew that I probably just killed any chance I had of winning the bet. Apparently though, Jennifer 3 hadn't forgotten. It was all up to her now, and she was playing her part perfectly.

Logan turned to face Jennifer 3 as he spoke. He was going back to avoiding and ignoring me. It was much easier this way for the both of us. "If you ever need to talk, let me know. I'm a good listener."

"The same goes for me," Carlos chimed in.

"I might just have to take you up on that sometime," Jennifer 3 responded.

Carlos and Logan then left the two of us as they made their way to the elevators. My guess was that they were going to see Camille. Camille. If there was one person I hated more than Jennifer 2, it was Camille. I sincerely hoped Jennifer 3 could win the bet for us. Nothing gives me greater pleasure than getting the best of Camille.

What I didn't know was that Jennifer 3 wasn't the only one who had a shot of winning the bet. I was still very much in it as well.

To Be Continued…

**A/N: Ugh! Here comes my pessimistic side again, so if you don't want to hear it, stop reading this paragraph and skip ahead to the next one. This didn't turn out as good as I envisioned it would. Truthfully, this was probably the hardest chapter to write so far. I knew what I wanted to do in this chapter, but I just feel like I could've done better. **

**Also, I have a couple of ideas for some new stories. I just don't know whether I should write them now or wait until I finish this first. I don't even know how long this is going to end up being. Plus, I don't want to have someone else beat me to an idea that I have right now. On the flip side, I don't want to be a horrible person by having more than one multi-chapter story going at the same time. That'll mean even more pressure to update. Without really spoiling too much, I will briefly tell you what the other two stories I'm thinking of writing are about. One is a Logan/Camille angst story. The other is a Logan/Carlos friendship/horror/humor story. I'll leave it in your hands. You be the judge. Should I write the Logan/Camille angst story in addition to this? Or should I write the Logan/Carlos story in addition to this? Or should I write both of them in addition to this? Or finally, should I just wait and focus on only Big Time Disaster for the time being?**


	11. Arrested Development

**A/N: So, the general consensus seems to be for me to wait to upload any new stories. So, wait I shall. As far as this story is concerned, I know where I want to go with it. I have flashes of what I want to happen in the future. I just need to connect the dots now, or flashes as it were. Oh, and I'm tired of referring to Camille's dad as "Camille's father" so his last name will be Sanders since the actress who plays Camille, Erin Sanders, her last name is Sanders. I haven't decided on a first name yet though. Perhaps I never will. Hey! At least you got a last name!**

**Disclaimer: I own BTR…songs on my iPhone. If I was making a profit by writing this, then why on Earth would I continue to push carts?**

**Big Time Disaster**

_Arrested Development_

_3__rd__ Person Omniscient POV_

Logan and Carlos arrived at the front door to Camille's apartment at long last. In a bit of a role reversal, Logan was the one who looked eager while Carlos looked cautious and wary. Logan curled his hand into a fist, and knocked on the door.

Mr. Sanders, to Logan's dismay, opened the door. He looked about as pleased to see Logan as Logan was pleased to see Mr. Sanders, which was not very.

"Where's Camille? I want to talk to her," Logan stated.

"Like I care about what you want. What are you even doing here? You're in direct violation of your restraining order. Don't make me call the cops on you because trust me, I will," Mr. Sanders said.

This was exactly what Carlos had been afraid of. If Logan got arrested, it would go on his permanent record. Why didn't Logan care about that? He had no priors, but his record would no longer be squeaky clean if he doesn't heed Mr. Sanders's threats.

"Be my guest. I doubt you even will though. This is probably just an empty threat. Speaking of threat, it's quite amusing how threatened you are by me. I must say that you are the first person to ever be threatened by me," Logan remarked.

"I am not threatened by you!" Mr. Sanders retorted.

"Forcing Camille to break up with me, putting a restraining order on me, threatening to call the cops on me. Right. You're not threatened by me at all."

Carlos couldn't figure Logan out at all. This was so unlike him. It seemed like he was actually trying to push Mr. Sanders's buttons. Carlos wasn't sure what game Logan was playing, or for that matter, if he was even playing a game at all. All Carlos knew was that typically, Logan doesn't have a whole lot of self-confidence. The Logan before him now though was oozing confidence.

"You know what? Perhaps I was wrong about you. Going toe-to-toe with me is almost impressive. Almost. Now I'll ask you one more time to leave. This is the last time I'll ask," Mr. Sanders said.

"Not until I see Camille," Logan responded.

Just then, the door to Camille's bedroom opened, and she moseyed her way out to where her father, Carlos, and Logan were. Carlos, Logan, and Mr. Sanders all could tell that Camille had been crying. There were tear tracks all over her face. Her eyes were bloodshot. Her makeup was ruined, making it look like she had raccoon eyes.

"Logan, do what my father says," Camille said, in a voice Logan didn't recognize.

"W-what? W-why?" Logan stammered.

"You may want to see me, but I don't want to see you."

It was like déjà vu all over again. Logan let out a soft gasp. Carlos nervously looked back and forth from Camille to Logan, trying in vain to get a good read on either of them. Meanwhile, Mr. Sanders had a triumphant smile on his face.

"Camille, you don't mean that. You _can't_ mean that!" Logan exclaimed.

"You don't know what I mean! The only person who knows what I mean is me! I meant every word. Just in case you didn't hear me the first time, I'll repeat myself, so read my lips; I do not want to see you, Logan," Camille said slowly enunciating each and every word of the last sentence.

Carlos was between a rock and a hard place. Camille was his friend, but then so was Logan. In fact, Logan was his best friend. It seemed no matter what he did, he would end up betraying one of them. How could he be loyal to both of them when they were fighting with each other again?

Logan turned to face Mr. Sanders. He was gripping his crutches so tightly that his knuckles were starting to turn white.

"What have you done? What did you say to her?" Logan shouted.

"Don't make me laugh, kid. I don't have to answer to you!" Mr. Sanders remarked.

Logan went to close the distance between him and Mr. Sanders, but Carlos quickly stepped in between them, holding Logan back. Carlos looked into Logan's eyes and was frightened by what he saw; Carlos saw that Logan fully intended on causing Mr. Sanders physical pain. Once again, that was very un-Logan like.

"Logan, calm down," Carlos whispered into his friend's ear.

"Please, you think you could take me? Try anything, and I'll break your other ankle," Mr. Sanders warned.

"Is that a fact?"

Carlos held back a squirming Logan. He was surprised how difficult the task ended up being. Carlos and Logan were roughly the same height. Logan was slightly taller than Carlos though. The two boys were roughly the same weight. Carlos had a slight weight advantage on Logan though.

"Logan, I'm sorry," Camille stated.

Logan couldn't help but notice that Camille didn't sound very apologetic despite the words she uttered. Her tone of voice was off. There was no emotion behind it whatsoever. It wasn't quite monotone. Logan didn't know how to describe it, but it was eerily creepy.

"I'm just not…good…for you. You deserve so much better," Camille said.

"No, that's where you're wrong. You're perfect for me. I'm the one who doesn't deserve you," Logan replied.

"We finally agree on something," Mr. Sanders commented.

Logan glared at Mr. Sanders, who responded in kind. Carlos stood there speechless. He was just trying to make sense of this all, but to no avail. He was thoroughly confused. He couldn't make heads or tails out of any of this.

"I keep hurting you Logan. Over and over again. For some strange reason, you keep coming back to me. You refuse to give up on me, on us. Why? I have no idea. If you won't put a stop to this, then you leave me no choice—I will," Camille stated.

Logan felt like Camille had stabbed him in the back, and was now twisting the knife. He was overcome by a grief that was like no other. His knees buckled, and he dropped to his knees. His eyes glistened with impending tears.

"See, I've come to the realization that though I do care for you Logan, I care about spiting my father more. Every single decision I have made recently I made to achieve the maximum level of spite. What would my father think? How would he react? My father married my mother out of spite. My father got my mom pregnant out of spite, and I was the result of that spite. I refuse to be like my father. I refuse to do that to you Logan. It's not fair to you," Camille explained.

"So that's it? You're afraid that you're going to wind up like your father? You won't Camille! I won't let you! Don't give up on us! I'll be better! I promise!" Logan exclaimed.

"That's just it, Logan. It's not possible for you to be any better. You've been perfect throughout all of this. You've exceeded any expectations. It's not you, it's me. I'm the one who needs to be better. Me pulling the plug on whatever we have between us is the first step of me being better."

Carlos walked over to Logan, and put a hand on his shoulder, letting him know that he was there for him. Carlos felt like he should do more, yet it was more than enough to Logan. Camille was his world and his world as he knew it just got yanked out from underneath him.

"He's lying," Logan said so softly, everyone else in the room wasn't sure he even said anything.

Logan bore into Mr. Sanders's eyes with his own. "He's lying," Logan repeated.

"Oh, come on! Is that the best you got, kid?" Mr. Sanders asked, clearly amused.

It was clear to Logan what was going on here. Camille's dad had been feeding her nothing but lies, and she fell for it hook, line, and sinker. Logan knew that Mr. Sanders couldn't stand him. It's not beyond the realm of possibility that he would thus make up whatever lies he could concoct just so that Camille would move on.

"Camille, call your mother. See if your father's story checks out. Please? For me? If you ever cared about me, then you'll do this," Logan pleaded.

"Oh my gosh! Will you just leave already?" Mr. Sanders commented.

"What's wrong Mr. Sanders? I'm right, aren't I? That's why you're in such a hurry for me to leave."

"No, I'm in a hurry for you to leave because the sight of you with my daughter nauseates me. I'm in a hurry for you to leave because I can't stand you. I'm in a hurry for you to leave because again, you're in direct violation of the restraining order."

Camille found it suspicious that her father was in such a rush for Logan to leave. Maybe Logan was onto something. Maybe her father had been telling her lies. The horrific story about how her parents got married. The horrendous part about why she was brought into this world. What if it all was a lie? When she first heard it, she accepted it at face value. After all, why would her father lie about something like that? That's despicable.

"That's it, I'm calling the cops," Mr. Sanders announced, pulling out his cell phone.

"No!" Carlos shouted.

"Relax Carlos. If he wants to call the police on me, let him," Logan said.

"Logan!"

"You're nothing but a bully Mr. Sanders. I've dealt with people like you practically my entire life. See, people like you think you can walk all over people like me. Well no more. I refuse to be a helpless victim any longer!"

"Logan…"

It was true. No one had it worse when it came to getting bullied than Logan. Growing up, Logan was almost always the smallest one. To bullies, that made him an easy target. Even in peewee hockey, where the guys of Big Time Rush first met, bullies would check Logan into the boards a little too roughly. They would trip him with their hockey sticks. At school, they would lock him inside his locker, or give him swirlies. They would throw him in garbage dumpsters or urinate in his shoes. Then, of course, there was always the physical abuse they inflicted on little Logan. The shoving, punching, kicking. Logan would come home from school on pretty much a regular basis with a black eye, a bloodied nose, or a cut lip. He would lie to his parents and say that he tripped and fell. He would say that he was just a klutz. The worst part was that his parents bought it. Not Kendall, James, and Carlos though. They just regretted that due to having different classes, they weren't always around to protect Logan from the bullies. That is why even to this day, they were fiercely protective of Logan.

"The cops are on their way," Mr. Sanders said.

"Come on, Logan. Let's go before the police get here," Carlos urged.

"No, I'm not going anywhere, Carlos!" Logan exclaimed.

"Logan, now is not the time to be stubborn!"

It was common knowledge to anyone who got to know Logan that he had a pristine criminal record. Yet here he was ready and willing to throw it all away, and for what? What was he trying to prove?

"If I leave, then _he_ wins," Logan said, pointing at Mr. Sanders. "I will not let him win!"

"Since when did you care so much about winning? I thought Kendall was the ultra-competitive one?" Carlos inquired.

"When it comes to Camille, there is no other option but to win."

It wasn't long at all until the police were knocking at the door. Mr. Sanders gladly let them in. He also gladly pointed out the kid he wanted arrested. Carlos and Camille were horrified when they saw a police officer slap handcuffs on Logan.

"Logan Mitchell, you are under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to speak to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed to you. Do you understand these rights as they have been read to you?" the police officer that didn't slap the handcuffs on Logan asked.

"Yes," Logan answered.

Carlos was surprised by how remarkably calm Logan remained throughout all of this. He half-expected Logan to be having a panic attack by now. Camille was floored that her father actually went through with it—he actually had Logan arrested. She hated her father even more now, and she didn't even think that was possible.

The two police officers ushered Logan out of the apartment, each of them grabbing a hold of one of Logan's upper arms. Carlos was right behind them. Mr. Sanders gave Logan a condescending wave as he was leaving.

"Don't worry, Logan. Everything's going to be okay. We'll have you out before you know it," Carlos said, making Logan promises he wasn't even sure he would be able to keep.

As they walked through The Palm Woods, they received myriad stares and confused looks. The last person anyone thought would be taken out of The Palm Woods in handcuffs was Logan Mitchell.

Kendall and Jo were lounging by the pool drinking smoothies and playing checkers when Jo saw a couple of police officers and a handcuffed Logan.

"No way!" Jo remarked.

"What?" Kendall asked, his back was to the lobby.

"Why are they taking Logan out of The Palm Woods in handcuffs?"

Kendall rolled his eyes at his girlfriend. If she was going to make up something, at least make it somewhat believable. When he spun around though, his jaw dropped to the ground. With a speed he didn't know he possessed, he sprung to his feet and had joined a frantic Carlos in trailing their best friend.

"This has got to be some sort of mistake!" Kendall cried out to the police officers.

"It's no mistake, Kendall," Logan replied. "Don't worry. I'm fine."

Kendall hated this. What was he supposed to do? Just sit back and watch as two police officers took Logan away in a squad car? He always imagined that if anyone were to be arrested out of the four of them, it would be Carlos, but certainly not Logan.

The police officers opened the back door of the squad car. They pushed Logan's head down so that he wouldn't hit his head upon getting into the police car. They shut the door behind him. Logan wouldn't even look at them. He just stared straight ahead. Maybe he was ashamed. Or maybe he just couldn't bring himself to look at his friends in this, his lowest moment ever.

Kendall felt Jo take his hand in hers. Stephanie was at Carlos's side, and he took her hand in his. The four of them could do nothing but stand there and watch as the police car drove away with their friend in the back seat.

To Be Continued…

**A/N: Bet you didn't see that one coming, now did you? Although perhaps you did; after all, the chapter title made it kind of obvious. I noticed a drop in reviews lately. This makes me sad. **


	12. The Truth

**A/N: I know you all probably want to know what is happening with Logan, which is why I'm going to torture you and make you wait until the next chapter to find out. For now, enjoy this phone conversation between Camille and her mother. Yes, this chapter will be primarily dialogue. You've been warned.**

**Disclaimer: Pigs can fly. I am like the mythical beast, Cerberus, because I have three heads. I own Big Time Rush. I make a cool grand with each chapter I write. Now, if you actually believed any of that, I honestly don't know what to say…If you even read any of that…wow! Props to you!**

**Big Time Disaster**

_The Truth_

_Mrs. Sanders's POV_

The landline in our house rang. Its sound reverberated off the walls of the house. When I checked the Caller ID, I noticed that it was Camille that was calling. I instantly picked up the phone. I didn't hear from her enough. She usually only managed to call me once a week. I would be lying if I said that a part of me wasn't jealous of how close Camille is to her father. She's always been closer to her father than to me.

It's not that I was a bad mother either. I thought I was pretty good at this whole parenting thing. I adapted an authoritative—rather than authoritarian—parenting style. I set rules and boundaries with Camille, but I was still willing to compromise and meet her halfway. It's just I wasn't the one she went to for advice. I wasn't the one whose shoulder she cried on. I wasn't the one with her in Los Angeles. Her father was.

"Camille! It's so good to hear your voice!" I gushed.

"Mom?" Camille responded. Call it maternal instinct, but I knew then and there that something was wrong—horribly wrong. It sounded like she had done nothing but cry lately. I could tell she was trying to keep it together while she talked to me, but I could also tell how much she was struggling with that. Her voice cracked, it was interrupted by sobbing fits, and it sounded nasally, which meant that her nose had been runny.

"Honey, what's wrong?" I asked. I tried my best to keep my composure. It was hard knowing that your daughter, your own flesh and blood, was hurting so badly.

"Remember that boy I told you about? The one I said I liked?" she asked.

"Yeah, Logan was it?"

"Yep. He just got arrested."

Arrested? This didn't make any sense at all. From everything Camille had told me about Logan, he wasn't a troublemaker. He was the sweet, innocent, wouldn't-harm-a-fly type. To be honest, he's the kind of guy you want your daughter to date, if I do say so myself. Granted, I've never officially met Logan, but I already felt like I knew him.

"Are you serious? What happened?" I inquired.

"My dad happened! He called the cops on Logan!" Camille exclaimed.

"What? Why?"

"Because he violated the restraining order that was placed on him by _Dad_."

Restraining order? So much must have happened since the last time Camille and I spoke. This too didn't make sense. Logan didn't strike me as the abusive type. I never went to law school or anything, but usually isn't that how restraining orders come about?

"Why did your father put a restraining order on Logan?" I asked.

"Because the two of us wouldn't stop seeing each other even though Dad disapproved of our being together," Camille answered.

"That sounds like your father."

I loved my husband. I did. I do. It's just his biggest weakness I would say is how controlling he is. He likes to always be in control over everything. Slapping Logan with a restraining order is proof of that.

"I told Logan that I didn't want to see him anymore. Before he got arrested," Camille stated.

"Sweetie, why would you do that? I thought you cared about him? I thought you loved him?" I asked.

"I do. That's why I'm doing it, Mom. I love him enough to let him go. Besides, all I do is hurt him time and time again. He doesn't deserve that, Mom."

"That's not the only reason you're doing it, is it? You're also doing it because it's what your father wants you to do. I'm right, aren't I?"

Camille was silent, but even her silence served as an answer to my inquiry. I had hit the nail on the head after all.

"Honey, I get that you respect and value your father's opinion, but you can't keep doing exactly what he wants for the rest of your life," I told her.

"Of course, I am scared for Logan. I mean he just got arrested! A part of me is touched though. He got arrested for me. How romantic is that?" Camille remarked, changing the subject.

"He sounds like a keeper."

I saw what was going on here. It was as clear as night and day. My husband was a control freak. For once, there was something he couldn't control; he couldn't control how Camille felt about Logan. To cope with that, he punishes them, he punishes Logan.

"Camille, listen to me. You are free to do whatever you choose, but just know this—I have never heard you any happier than when you first told me all about Logan. He makes you happy, happier than you have ever been. You know what? That's enough for me," I said.

"Yeah, but our relationship is like a roller coaster—so many ups and downs," Camille commented.

"What relationship isn't? All relationships take work. When the going gets rough, you have a choice to make—one that defines your relationship and defines you—do you fight for what you have or do you bail?"

"Logan wants to fight for what we have."

"What about you? What do you want?"

"I want to fight too, but Dad—"

"Forget about your father and what he wants! This isn't about him. It's about you. Frankly, it's about time that he realizes that he can't always get what he wants."

The truth of the matter was that I wanted to be the one to go with Camille to Los Angeles. Yeah, I had a job here, but I could always get another one. I figured it would give Camille and me some mother-daughter bonding time. We haven't had much of that. I fully supported Camille and her going after her dreams. My biggest fear was that she wasn't aware of that. Somehow, my staying here in Connecticut made her think that I didn't support her childhood dream of being an actress, a movie star. However, my husband told me that I was staying, and he was going with Camille to Los Angeles, and that was that.

"Hey Mom, Dad told me some things. I was wondering if they were true," Camille said.

"What did he say?" I asked, not quite sure where this was going.

"He said that his parents didn't approve of you."

"Yeah, that part's true."

"He also said that he married you to spite his parents."

"He told me it was because he loved me."

"He also said that he got you pregnant to spite his parents."

"He assured me it was because he was ready to be a dad."

"So Dad was lying then after all?"

"I'm afraid it looks that way, Camille."

I was devastated. I was heartbroken. My life had been a lie. My marriage had been a lie. My husband told me one thing, but turned around and told Camille something completely different. She was daddy's little girl, so I was convinced beyond a shadow of a doubt that what he said to her was the truth.

"You love Daddy, right?" Camille asked, hopefully.

Given these new developments, how do I answer that question? This changes everything I thought I ever knew. I never knew my husband could be so spiteful. I always knew he could hold a grudge, but never in my wildest imagination did I think he could be this spiteful.

"I do. Why do you ask?" I was hurt; deeply hurt, but I did love my husband.

"He said that he loved you, but he doesn't anymore," Camille answered.

My world was rocked to the core. I clutched my hand to my chest as if that could stop my heart from breaking. _He said that he loved you, but he doesn't anymore_. Those words kept playing themselves over and over in my ear try as I may to shut them out.

"Mom? Mom, are you there?" Camille asked, worried.

"I'm here, honey," I said, my voice shaky.

"So I take it you didn't know? I'm sorry. I thought you knew."

"It's not your fault, dear."

I couldn't blame Camille. She was just the messenger. You know how the saying goes—don't shoot the messenger. Camille wasn't the one who had been lying to me for over two decades. My marriage was a sham. All those kisses, the 'I love you's, the gifts, they were all a cover-up, a ruse.

"Mom, are you and Dad going to get a divorce?" Camille asked, she sounded like a scared child.

How do I answer that question? When Camille first called, I thought everything was fine. I thought my marriage was fine. I thought my husband loved me. Now, come to find out that he didn't even love me anymore. Quite possibly, he never did. It was all about spiting his parents. That's all everything had been about.

"I don't know," I said.

I love him. I loved him. I don't know how I feel anymore really. I'm so confused. I feel so hurt. So betrayed. So disappointed. So furious. How can I love someone who doesn't love me back? If this was someone else, I would advise them to get out of that toxic relationship. This wasn't someone else though. This was me. Me and my husband.

"Mom, you're not mad at me, are you? I never should have told you all that," Camille commented.

"I'm not mad at you, Camille. I could never be mad at you. I'm glad you told me. I needed to know the truth," I said.

I remembered my wedding vows. For better or worse, for richer or poor, in sickness and in health, as long as we both shall live. I loved my husband unconditionally. I accepted him exactly the way he was. I never tried to change him. I never attempted to make him into someone he wasn't. Apparently though, the wedding vows my husband made didn't mean anything to him.

I couldn't stay married to him. I just didn't know if I wanted a divorce. At the very least, I would separate from him. I could always get an annulment. That way, it'll be like the marriage never happened. I'm just not sure I want it to be like the marriage never happened. He was the love of my life. It was love at first sight. He was the only guy I had ever loved. It wasn't all bad. It had all been a lie though.

It was bad enough that he had ruined his own relationship, his own marriage. Now he was trying to ruin his daughter's relationship too. Camille and Logan were just kids. They were young. They were in love. Why does my husband have to go and try to ruin that? Why does he always have to insist on being in control? Why can't he just leave it alone? Why can't he just let them be?

"Mom, are you still there?" Camille asked.

"Yeah, I'm here," I replied.

"Okay. I wasn't sure because you hadn't said anything in a while."

"I was just thinking."

"I understand. I gave you a lot to think about."

That was a huge understatement. My mind was racing. I was discombobulated. I couldn't tell what was up and what was down.

"Camille?" I said.

"Yeah, Mom?" she replied.

"Forget what I said earlier. If you love Logan, then don't let him go. Fight for him."

"What if he doesn't take me back?"

"Camille, he got arrested for you! Of course, he'll take you back! I'm willing to bet that there isn't anything in the world he wouldn't do for you. You know something else? That is exactly the kind of guy I want dating my daughter."

I wasn't saying this because it was the opposite viewpoint of my husband. That was a mere coincidence. If I couldn't find love, if I couldn't find true happiness, then at least my daughter could. Logan seemed like a stand-up guy. He certainly provided Camille with many of her firsts—her first time being asked out by a boy, her first time going to a school dance, her first boyfriend, her first love.

I was genuinely happy that Camille and Logan had found each other. I was so relieved that finally Camille found someone who liked her back. It had always been about unrequited love before with her. She would have a crush on a guy, but he wouldn't like her back. She deserved happiness. She deserved Logan.

From what Camille told me about Logan, which was a lot mind you, I would be honored to someday welcome him into the Sanders family. I would be elated to have him as a son-in-law one day.

"Who are you talking to?" I heard my husband say in the background.

"Mom. Do you want to say 'hi' to her?" Camille asked.

"No, that's okay. Carry on."

He wouldn't even say 'hi' to me. I should have known something was up. The whole time the two of them had lived in Hollywood, not once did he call me. Camille called me once a week, but he never called me. I was always the one calling him. How could I have been so stupid? How could I have been so blind? How could I not have seen this coming?

"Mom, are you okay? You didn't happen to hear that, did you?" Camille asked.

"I did, and don't worry about me. I will be fine," I responded.

"I love you, Mom."

"I love you too, Camille."

It was nice to know that someone did. My husband sure didn't. His parents sure didn't. My parents had passed away a few years ago. I didn't have any other living relatives. Camille was all I had left.

To Be Continued…

**A/N: The father's story checks out after all. Only he had told his wife something entirely different. Just a word of warning—in the next chapter, and again later on, I am not going to be particularly…kind…to Logan. So if you are a Logan fan, and I'm guessing that everyone reading this is, be prepared. You have been warned. Let's get to 200 reviews, people.**


	13. Fresh Meat

**A/N: If you noticed, I bumped up the rating. This just isn't going to be K+ material anymore. Sorry.**

**Disclaimer: Really? I mean seriously? If you've been paying the teeniest, tiniest bit of attention, then you would know that this part isn't necessary anymore. I own nothing. I am not making a profit by writing this.**

**Big Time Disaster**

_Fresh Meat_

_Logan's POV_

I was so humiliated. I was so mortified. I got fingerprinted. I got my mug shot taken. Now I was in a juvenile detention center, or juvie. I was wearing a hideous neon orange prison get up. I was completely cut off from everyone I cared about. I truly was alone.

A prison guard led me into the mess hall. Then, he proceeded to take off my handcuffs. I flexed my fingers, and massaged my sore wrists.

"Hey Sid, got some fresh meat for you," the prison guard shouted, before leaving.

I saw six guys walk over to me. Like me, they were all teenagers. They looked older than me, but since this was juvenile hall, I deduced that they must be seventeen years old. The one in the front, I gathered, must be Sid.

He towered over me easily. I would guess that he was at least six foot four inches tall. He was probably twice my size. He probably weighed a good two hundred thirty or two hundred forty pounds. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and every square inch of his forearms was covered in tattoos. It wouldn't surprise me if both of his arms were completely covered in tattoos. He had a thick brown mustache, and a goatee that looked like an icicle hanging from his chin. He was completely bald.

Sid was the biggest one of them. He was also the tallest. It was clear that he was the leader too. His cronies were all bigger than me as well. This reminded me too much of the bullies that would pick on me at school.

"Look, I don't want any trouble," I said.

Sid gave an obnoxiously sarcastic, booming laugh. He had a deep bass voice. "Did you hear that boys? He doesn't want any trouble," he remarked.

His cronies all joined Sid in laughing at me. I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach that this wasn't going to end well for me. My fight-or-flight instinct kicked in; more specifically, my flight instinct kicked in. However, I was horrified to find that I was quickly surrounded. They had formed a circle around me, preventing me from escaping.

"Going somewhere?" Sid asked, an evil grin on his face.

I was not a fighter. At the moment, I regretted not taking any self-defense classes or anything. I doubt I could even defend myself. I guess I took for granted having people around to defend me. I never really learned how to fight because I always had Kendall, James, and Carlos there to protect me and come to my rescue. Only now, they wouldn't be coming to my rescue. Now they couldn't protect me.

My body tensed. I nervously glanced at the six juvenile delinquents that had me cornered. There were evil intentions in the eyes of each and every one of them. My heart raced. My breathing accelerated ten-fold.

"Relax, we do this to all the newbies that come through here," Sid stated.

That didn't really make me feel any better. It didn't do anything to erase the dread I was feeling. I wasn't just scared. I was more than scared. I was terrified.

"Don't. Please. Don't," I begged, my eyes stinging with tears.

"Aw, look boys. He's going to cry," Sid commented.

The six of them laughed at me again. Some of them even mock cried as well. That should have made me upset. That should have made me angry. However, all I felt was an overwhelming sense of fear that spread throughout every fiber of my being.

Sid slowly stalked his way over to me. He reminded me of a predatory cat. Like a jaguar, panther, or cougar sizing up its prey before pouncing. My mind was telling me to run—do something, _anything—_but I remained rooted in place, frozen in terror.

The first strike came. Sid had punched me hard in the gut. I doubled over, and immediately started gasping for air. I clutched my stomach, and clenched my teeth. The pain was unbearable. It was made worse by the fact that Sid was so much bigger than me. He no doubt had plenty of fighting experience. I shuddered to think how many other kids he had done this to in juvenile hall.

Sid tapped his chin with his finger.

"Come on! Hit me! I dare you!" Sid challenged.

I had been in fights before, but I was the one getting beaten up. I had never actually hit anyone before. I wasn't really sure how to even throw a punch. However, I curled my hand into a fist, pulled back, and stomped on his foot as hard as I could instead.

"Son of a—" Sid exclaimed, hopping up and down on one foot.

His cronies were on me like a pack of wolves. The next thing I knew, two of his cronies descended upon me, each grabbing one of my arms and holding it behind my back. Sid looked livid. Even though I had a feeling I was about to get beaten to a pulp, I was kind of proud of myself for actually hitting back for once.

"Big mistake! Now you're going to pay!" Sid exclaimed before he punched me right underneath my left eye.

My head rocked to one side, and my vision instantly blurred. The mess hall was spinning I was so overcome by dizziness. A sharp pain resonated from where Sid had punched me. I could already feel my eye start to swell up.

Sid punched me again. This time a little lower. I felt knuckle on bone as he landed a punch on my nose this time. A spray of blood shot out of my nose, and I could feel it continue to trickle out of my nostrils.

I desperately squirmed against my captives, but they were far too strong for me. I was a sitting duck. By now, my left eye had already swollen shut. Therefore, I could only see out of my right eye. From what I could tell, Sid wasn't even close to being finished with me yet.

He pulled his fist back to strike me again, but this time I was ready for him. This time, I beat him to the punch. I kicked him in the nose before he could deck me again. He instantly grabbed his nose, and checked for blood. When he saw the sticky, crimson liquid on his finger, he became even more infuriated.

Instead of breaking free, I used my knowledge of physics to try a different approach. I ran backwards until I had effectively slammed both of my captives into the wall. Their grip on me loosened. I quickly elbowed both of them in the face until I was completely free from their grasp.

No sooner was I free from those two, did a punch connect with my jaw. It literally knocked me off my feet. As I lay face up on the cold, cement floor, I looked up at my attacker, and saw Sid standing over me. I must have bit my lip when I got socked in the jaw, because there was a metallic iron taste in my mouth—the taste of blood.

I rolled off my back, and was on all fours. The next thing I knew, I was getting repeatedly kicked in the ribs. I couldn't tell how many people were attacking me; all I knew was that my body was in sheer agony. I desperately tried to use my hands to cover up my exposed ribcage, but then their kicks would instead land on my already sore wrists.

They kicked me over and over. My body writhed, twisted, and contorted with each and every strike. Tears cascaded down my cheeks, mixing with the blood coming out of my mouth and nose. Some of the mixture managed to find its way into my mouth, and it still tasted of iron, but it was diluted by the salty water of my tears.

"Stop! No more!" I cried out.

They didn't listen. If anything, they kicked me even harder. As an aspiring doctor, I knew that at the very least my ribs were bruised. There was a strong probability that some of them were even cracked. There also stood a chance that some of them might even be broken.

Instead of counting how many times I was kicked, I counted how many seconds passed. If my mind was focused on that task, maybe just maybe it wouldn't be focused on the torture my body was experiencing. However, that plan didn't work either. I got to a count of ten before I gave up on counting altogether.

I just wanted it to stop. They made their point already. They taught me a lesson. They had displayed their dominance, their superiority, over me. Enough was enough. I was surprised that the prison guards weren't coming in to break up the fight. Instead, they continued to let Sid and his buddies savagely beat me.

"_Hey Sid, got some fresh meat for you."_

Wait a second. Was Sid tight with the prison guards? Were they in on this too? Is that why they weren't breaking up the fight? It was painfully obvious that Sid was the top dog around here, but exactly how far did his rule spread?

"Not so tough now, are you?" Sid taunted.

Even the most elementary tasks—like breathing—were a challenge for me. It was hard to breathe when the wind was getting knocked out of you with each and every kick to your ribcage. There was no reprieve, no break, in between kicks either.

I started having coughing fits. Again, I tasted the metallic iron taste of blood in my mouth. Soon enough, a pool of blood came spewing out of my mouth. Great. I was coughing up blood. As an aspiring doctor, I knew what that meant—I had internal bleeding.

"Okay, that's enough! Where's the fun in killing him now?" Sid asked, calling off the attack.

However, before my body could slump to the floor, I felt a searing hot pain on the side of my head, where my left temple was. Sid had punted my skull like it was a football. My head snapped back, and my eyes rolled to the back of my head. I dropped to the ground, a crumpled heap.

As I fought the darkness that threatened to engulf me, I could vaguely make out Sid saying something to me. It kind of sounded like, "You know, you are the first one to actually hit back. You actually got a couple of good licks in. I'm almost impressed. _Almost_."

It sounded strangely familiar to me. It reminded me of something Mr. Sanders said to me before I got arrested.

_Going toe-to-toe with me is almost impressive. Almost._

I had fought back against Sid and his goons, but they were too strong for me. There were too many of them for me. I couldn't feel anything. I was numb to all but one thing—pain. I was in pain. So much pain. I hurt. Everywhere. My nose, my eye, my jaw, my left temple, my neck, my wrists, my ribs. I wanted nothing more but to curl up in a ball and die just so the pain would go away.

This was by far the worst beating I had ever received in my life. It made all the other times I got beat up by bullies at school seem like they were just play fighting with me. This was a beating. This was the real deal. I was struggling to not let the darkness take over, but I was losing that battle as well.

Then I saw her in my mind. Camille. I couldn't just give up. I couldn't just roll over and die. It was the easier road. That was no lie. Still, I had to see her again. I had to hear her voice again. I had to feel one of her trademark slaps again. I had to smell the aroma that is uniquely Camille again. I had to hold her hand in mine again. There was no question. I had to survive. For Camille.

As I lay face down on the cold, unforgiving cement floor of the mess hall, before I slipped into unconsciousness, I felt something wet on my back. It seeped through my orange prison get up, and I could feel the cool moisture on my skin. I could smell its distinct aroma. I could detect the presence of ammonia. Someone, my guess is Sid, was urinating on me.

The last thing I felt before I slipped into unconsciousness wasn't pain, it was humiliation.

To Be Continued…

**A/N: I told you! I warned you that I wasn't going to be particularly kind to Logan in this chapter! See? I wasn't lying! Granted, now you all probably want my head on a silver platter because of what I did to Logan, but just keep in mind that I didn't do anything to Logan. It was all Sid and his goons. Besides, if you have my head on a silver platter, then how will you ever know what else is going to happen in this story? How will you ever know how this story will end? See? You need me—alive. On another note, I reached 200 reviews! Thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone for all their support!**


	14. Heartless

**A/N: After receiving numerous death threats, legally changing my name, and moving to another state, I can safely bring you the next chapter. To Logan Henderson, in the unlikely event that you actually read the last chapter, I honestly had no idea it was your birthday until some reviewers started biting my head off for uploading that chapter on your birthday. Despite what is happening to your character in the story, I really am one of your biggest fans. **

**Disclaimer: See any of the previous chapter's disclaimers.**

**Big Time Disaster**

_Heartless_

_James's POV_

I felt like such a horrible friend. I mean I wasn't even there when he got arrested. I had to hear about it from Kendall and Carlos. Logan was always there for me, ready to lend a helping hand when I needed him. I guess I kind of took it for granted that he would always be around.

Logan probably felt so scared and alone right now, and the worst part was, there was nothing I could do about it. I was so helpless, so unbelievably helpless. I wanted nothing more but to be able to tell him that everything was going to be okay, to reassure him that he would get through this. I couldn't though.

He always looked up to me. He admired how I wasn't willing to give up on my dream of becoming a pop star. He would always come to me for advice when it came to girls. Let's face it. When it came to girls, I was the one with the most experience; I was his go-to guy. I mean who did he go to for help asking Camille out to the Palm Woods dance? Me. Granted, he was horrible at it, but that's beside the point. Plus, he got it right…eventually.

To me, he was like the little brother I always wanted. Sometimes, okay most of the time, it would annoy me how much smarter than me he was. I always kept a close eye on him though. I would do anything to protect him. In school, if bullies so much as laid a hand on Logan, they would have to deal with me, and I could care less about what happens to my face.

When it came to Logan and Camille, I was the least vocal of his friends. Carlos encouraged Logan while Kendall discouraged Logan. I hated choosing sides. All I wanted was for Logan to be happy. He's much too sweet of a guy to remain single forever. If Camille is the girl that makes him happy, then I'm all for it. She just better not hurt him. See, that's where it's not all black and white. Camille did make Logan happy, but she also hurt him. I do owe Camille for helping me with my acting though.

Logan was the last person I ever expected to be arrested. Then again, that just goes to show you how much he really cares about Camille. In a weird sort of way, I'm jealous of Logan. At least he's found someone. Despite being a ladies' man, I was single.

When I think about it though, it's not surprising that Logan would go to such lengths as to get arrested. One thing I've noticed about Camille and Logan and how they act around each other, is that they aren't very subtle about it. He dressed up as a prince and rode in on a fake horse (that was really me and Kendall in costume) to ask Camille out to the first ever Palm Woods school dance. She would kiss him and slap him no matter how many witnesses there were. He got arrested just because he wanted to see her. Everything about their relationship, they do in grand gestures.

Camille's a cool person too. She's a good friend to me, but nothing more. She's not my type, but she's perfect for Logan. I think she and Logan complement each other perfectly. The fact that he makes such grand gestures when it comes to Camille, really says something. Usually, Logan is tentative, skeptical, and cautious. You don't do grand gestures when you're those things, but when he's with Camille, he's not any of those things. As for her, he kind of reins her in. She's still over-the-top, but she's not as over-the-top when she's with Logan.

Kendall, Carlos, Mrs. Knight, Katie, and I were going to juvenile hall to visit Logan. Only when we got there, a prison guard informed us that he wasn't there anymore. He had been taken to the hospital. Apparently, Logan was involved in some sort of fight.

I immediately started to think the worst. Logan wasn't a fighter. I don't think he's ever thrown a punch in his life. He's been in fights—plenty of fights—but he was always the one getting beaten up. He was hurt. We knew that much. We just didn't know how badly he was hurt.

The ride to the hospital was filled with silence. None of us knew what to say. All of us were in our own little zone, in our own heads imagining what we would see when we saw Logan in the hospital. How bad was it? Would we even be able to recognize him? How long did he have to stay in the hospital? What happened in the first place?

When we finally reached the hospital, we were in such a rush to see Logan that we nearly bowled over some nurses, doctors, and patients on our way in. After muttering quick apologies, we were on our way. Mrs. Knight went up to the receptionist desk in the lobby.

"Hi, we're here to see Logan Mitchell. Could you please tell us what room he is in?" she asked, urgency in her voice.

The female receptionist took forever and a day it seemed to find the necessary information on the computer.

"He's in room 307," she answered.

"Thank you," Mrs. Knight replied. Kendall, Carlos, Katie, and I were already well on our way to the elevators before Mrs. Knight even finished thanking the receptionist for her help.

Kendall pushed the up button by the elevators. He tapped his foot impatiently while we waited for the elevator door to open. Once it did, we scrambled inside. After pushing the button marked '3,' the elevator began its slow ascent. For only traveling two floors, it sure took a long time before we finally reached the third floor. The elevator door opened, and we hurried out.

It didn't take us long to find Logan's room at all. However, when we did, we hesitated just outside his door. I glanced over and saw Mrs. Knight take a deep breath. She opened the door to Logan's hospital room, and we followed her inside.

It was horrible. Logan always had a pale complexion, but he looked even paler than usual. There was some dried blood caked on his bottom lip. He had a black eye. His wrists were bandaged up. He was connected to a bunch of various machines. He was wearing a hospital gown. A sheet was pulled up to just past his waist. His arms lay folded across his chest. I could see his chest slowly rise and fall. It seemed like it should be rising and falling quicker though. He looked so small, vulnerable, and broken lying there.

"I can't do it! I can't see him like this!" Katie remarked, before she hastily left the hospital room.

"Katie!" Mrs. Knight called out, giving chase.

I could hear the annoying beeping sound of the heart monitor. I didn't understand. Why wasn't he awake? Lying there, he had a childlike innocence about him.

Carlos was the first one to move. He pulled up a chair, and sat next to Logan's hospital bed. He took his hand in his own. Tears spilled from the corners of his eyes.

"Hey Logan. I'm here, buddy. Look, I was in such a hurry to see you that I forgot to bring my helmet. You and I both know that I never go anywhere without it," Carlos told Logan, his voice cracking.

I chanced a glance at Kendall, and saw that he was stone-faced. His body was tense and rigid. I could tell that he was attempting to put on a brave face. He was trying to be strong—not just for me and Carlos, but for Logan too. He was our leader, but that didn't mean he couldn't show emotion too.

I hated this. Logan was my best friend. He was probably closer to Kendall and Carlos, but he was still my best friend. It's funny. If you were to ask Kendall and Carlos who their best friend was, they would give the same answer—Logan.

Kendall, Carlos, and I were kind of like Logan's protectors. We would give him a hard time about how he was so scared of everything. The truth of the matter though was that we didn't mind one bit showing him that there was nothing to be afraid of. He got more than his fair share of bullying. We would stop it from happening when we could, and get revenge on his tormentors when we couldn't. However, I couldn't help but feel like we failed Logan this time around.

I pulled up a chair on the opposite side of Logan's hospital bed. I took Logan's hand in my own. It was cold—far too cold—to the touch. I was so startled by how frigid his hand felt that I may have even jumped a little.

This wasn't fair! Why did this have to happen to Logan of all people? He didn't deserve this! Was it too much to ask that for once in his life, he wouldn't be victimized by bullies? He was a good person. He was the best! I'm freaking talking about him in the past tense! Why am I talking about him in the past tense?

I didn't know what to say. I didn't even know if Logan could hear me. I didn't know what to do. I was scared. What if Logan doesn't wake up? What if he doesn't get better? What if he…dies? No, I refused to think that way. He wasn't going to die! He was far too young to die! Any second now, he would open his eyes, or squeeze my hand, or something, anything.

"This is all Camille's fault! Her and her stupid dad! I hate her! I hate them!" Kendall exclaimed, startling both me and Carlos.

"Kendall, you don't mean that," Carlos replied.

"Yes, I do! If it wasn't for those two, Logan wouldn't have been arrested. If he never got arrested, he never would have been in juvie. If he never went to juvie, he never would have ended up here in the hospital! The hospital, Carlos! He has his own freaking bed and his own freaking room in a hospital!"

I noticed that Kendall was shaking. He was so angry he was shaking. Every part of him was shaking—his hands, his arms, his legs, his torso, his head. His fists were clenched tightly. I could see that he was losing the battle with his emotions. He looked like he would cry any second now.

The irony of this situation was not lost on me. Logan had always wanted to be a doctor. Some kids wanted to be astronauts when they grew up. Other kids wanted to be firefighters. Still others wanted to be teachers. Not Logan though. He always knew what he wanted to be when he grew up—a doctor. Here he was in a hospital bed after having been beaten up. Why is irony so cruel like that?

I remembered back when the band broke up after Griffin said that Big Time Rush was too risky and not feasible. I was so angry with Kendall, Carlos, and Logan for just throwing in the towel and giving up. In the heat of the moment, I said something to Logan that to this day, I never apologized for. I called his dream of being a doctor stupid. Looking back, that was so wrong of me to say that. I mean, Logan flew halfway across the country to help me make my dream come true, and how do I return the favor? By telling him that his dream of being a doctor was stupid.

Sometimes, I wonder why Logan is even friends with me in the first place. I mean sometimes, I'm not particularly nice to him. Like when we thought Wayne Wayne would replace one of us. _My money's on Logan_. Why did I say that? Okay, so he's not as good of a singer as me. Okay, so he's not as good of a dancer as Carlos. Okay, so he doesn't have Kendall's confidence. He's probably the one who has tried the hardest throughout all of this. He's probably the one who has come the farthest. Back when Gustavo came to Minnesota looking for his next star, Logan couldn't sing to save his life. Now, even Gustavo believes in him enough to give him the lead in some songs.

Kendall, Carlos, and Logan told me what Katie said about me when I signed with Hawk Records. _There's no Big Time Rush_ _without James_. I think the same could be said about Logan. He's the heart of our band. He's like the glue that holds us together. As I've said before, each of us view him as our best friend. He's the voice of reason. He's our go-to guy for answers and solutions.

"Logan, please come back to us. You can't quit now. You're going to be okay. You have to be! How are you going to become a doctor if you don't wake up? We need you. We all need you. You'd probably say I'm being selfish, but I want my best friend back," I said, looking at my unconscious friend with tear-clouded eyes.

Nothing. He didn't open his eyes. He didn't squeeze my hand. For all I know, he didn't even hear me. I laid my head on his stomach, and the dams in my eyes that were holding my tears back collapsed. My tears were getting his sheets all wet.

I felt someone put their hand on my shoulder. I heard Kendall's voice.

"James…" he said.

Guys weren't supposed to cry. It was viewed as a sign of weakness. Those who did were called crybabies, wusses, or pansies. At this point, I didn't care. Call me a crybaby. Call me a wuss. Call me a pansy. Have your best friend get beaten to within an inch of his or her life, and then see if you behave any differently.

I barely noticed that Carlos had pulled out his cell phone, and was dialing.

"What are you doing? Who are you calling?" Kendall asked.

"Camille," Carlos answered.

To Be Continued…

**A/N: So I felt it was necessary to give you a bit more insight into James. As I've told some of you, I've been avoiding incorporating James in this story because I find him the most difficult to write. From what I gather, he's self-absorbed, but not when it comes to his friends. Having said that, I don't quite know how he thinks or how he'd react in various situations. Anyways, in the next chapter, Camille visits Logan in the hospital. Thank you so much for making me believe that I don't entirely suck at writing!**


	15. Not Out of the Woods Yet

**A/N: I got a new laptop. Now I don't have to use my dad's computer. Yay! I have Saturday and Sunday off this weekend. This is actually the second draft of Chapter 15. After your feedback, you had me all scared that I wouldn't be able to live up to your expectations. I didn't feel like the first draft was quite up to par. Hence draft numero dos. **

**Disclaimer: Nickelodeon owns Big Time Rush. Yada, yada, yada. You know. I know. We know.**

**Big Time Disaster**

_Not Out of the Woods Yet_

_Kendall's POV_

"Hi Camille. It's Carlos," Carlos said into the speaker of his cell phone.

I couldn't believe this. Carlos was actually calling Camille. I always knew Carlos was crazy, but this was insanely crazy, even for him. I mean he was calling Camille of all people. Please tell me he was kidding. Either directly or indirectly, she was responsible for every single bad thing that had happened to Logan recently.

"It's Logan. He's in the hospital," Carlos stated.

Great. It was like my worst nightmare come true. Now Camille would be coming to the hospital to visit Logan. Why did she need to be here anyways? The only people who should be allowed to visit Logan are people who care about him. It was clear Camille didn't. One of the last things she said to Logan, according to Carlos, was, 'I don't want to see you.' So, I'm supposed to believe that now all of a sudden she does? Well, sorry if I don't believe that for one second.

"It's bad. He won't wake up for us," Carlos explained.

Wait a second. Was that why Carlos wanted Camille to come? He thought Logan would wake up for Camille? I remember the last time Camille broke Logan's heart. He nearly scared all of us to death. He just spiraled downwards until nothing remained but a shell of his former self. He stopped taking care of himself—he wouldn't eat or drink anything—he never felt like doing anything, even things he used to enjoy. That wasn't going to happen again. Not on my watch.

"We're not sure. All we know was that he was involved in some sort of fight," Carlos said.

A fight. Logan was in a fight. He wasn't a fighter. He was surely doomed from the start. Logan got scared easily too. I could only imagine how terrifying that must have been for him. Now, as I looked at him so broken, I seethed with anger. I wanted to find whoever was responsible and put _them_ in a hospital for what they did to Logan.

Carlos hung up on the phone.

"What did you do that for?" I protested.

"I thought she could help," Carlos replied innocently.

"You thought she could help. You thought _she _could help? Don't be stupid, Carlos! She doesn't know the first thing about helping Logan!"

"I'm not stupid!"

Carlos was the most sensitive out of our group. Well, him and Logan. Carlos was especially sensitive when it came to people insulting his intelligence. He wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed. He knew that. Still, he didn't like it when people called him stupid. So, what I said to him was kind of like a low blow.

"Carlos, I didn't mean it like that," I said.

"Then why did it sound like you do?" Carlos asked. "Or am I too stupid to tell the difference?"

It was official. I had just opened up a ginormous can of worms. There was no going back now. It was all about damage control. Good thing Carlos wasn't one to hold grudges. I was kind of banking on that right now.

"Carlos, come on. Don't be like that," I pleaded.

"You know what the worst part is, Kendall? The worst part is that you haven't even said sorry to me yet," Carlos said.

"Carlos, I'm sorry."

"That doesn't count! You're just apologizing because I had to practically ask you to apologize!"

Carlos wouldn't even look at me. Whenever he would look in my direction and see that I was looking at him, he would avert his gaze. I glanced over at James, and saw him shoot me a dirty look. It figured. James and Carlos were really close.

As a matter of fact, James went and sat next to Carlos, leaving me alone on one side of Logan's hospital bed.

I wasn't really sure what just happened. All I remember was that I was upset because Carlos was calling Camille. Then, things got hazy from there. Now Carlos wasn't talking to me. He wouldn't even look at me. The same went for James. I hated fighting with my best friends. I had a feeling we wouldn't be forgiving each other within an hour this time around because this time around, it wasn't stupid stuff we were fighting about.

The three of us sat in an uncomfortable silence at Logan's bedside. The tension in the room was so thick that you could cut it with a knife. Then, my mom entered the room. She looked like she had just seen a ghost.

"Mom, what is it? What's wrong?" I asked, genuinely concerned.

"I just spoke to Logan's doctor. He told me all about Logan's…injuries. It's horrible, Kendall. I don't understand how anyone could do that to sweet Logan," my mom commented.

My mom's words just confirmed my worst fears and suspicions. Apparently, it was as bad as it looked; maybe even worse. I wasn't sure I wanted to hear the laundry list of injuries inflicted upon Logan.

"What am I going to tell Logan's parents? They need to know about this. It's just they'll probably hate me. I was supposed to be Logan's guardian while he was out here. I failed him. He got hurt on my watch," my mom remarked.

I walked over to my mom, and put a hand on each of her shoulders. I hated that she was blaming herself for this. What happened to Logan wasn't her fault. She was a terrific guardian. She was a terrific mom.

"Mom, look at me. This wasn't your fault, okay? There was no way you could have known this would happen," I said.

Then it hit me like a ton of bricks. What if Logan's parents hated my mom? What if they wanted to take him back to Minnesota with them? No, that couldn't happen. We promised each other back when we were in peewee hockey together, that we would stick together no matter what.

"Where's Katie?" I asked.

"She's in the waiting room. She cried herself to sleep," my mom answered.

Poor Katie. It was like she had four big brothers instead of just one. James, Carlos, and Logan were just as much Katie's big brother as I was. The four of us were always hanging out, even back in Minnesota.

"So what exactly did Logan's doctor say, Mrs. Knight?" James asked.

"He bruised several of his ribs. A couple of his ribs were cracked. One of them was even broken. His wrists were fractured. His left eye is swollen shut. His jaw was dislocated. He has a mild concussion, and there was some internal bleeding," my mom explained.

I felt nauseated by this new information. I was half-tempted to break some sort of law, any law, just so I would get thrown in juvie. Then, I would find whoever did this to Logan, and inflict every single injury Logan suffered from on the culprit, and then some.

"Wait. Did you say Logan has a concussion? How bad is it? He remembers us though, right?" Carlos asked.

"I don't know Carlos. We won't know until he wakes up, I'm afraid," my mom replied.

This day just kept getting worse. It was one thing knowing that Logan had been hurt. It was completely different to hear every single way Logan had been hurt though. We still didn't even know what happened exactly. Hopefully when Logan woke up, he would be able to shine some light on that.

"Oh my gosh!" Camille said.

I looked over, and there she was standing in the doorway. She rushed over to where I had been sitting, and immediately grabbed Logan's hand. Tears were streaming down her face. I would have felt bad for her if not for the fact that I didn't want her here in the first place.

"You have a lot of nerve showing up here!" I exclaimed, narrowing my eyes at Camille.

"Carlos asked me to come," she replied, not even bothering to look me in the eyes as she spoke.

"There. You saw him. Now leave."

She got up out of the chair, planted a kiss on Logan's forehead, and then walked over to where I was standing.

"I have just as much right to be here as you do," she stated.

"Oh really? What are you to Logan, exactly? His girlfriend? His friend? I always get those two mixed up because you can't seem to make up your mind. Wasn't one of the last things you said to him, 'I don't want to see you' or something like that? So, then why are you here?" I retorted.

She pulled her hand back, and slapped me hard across my right cheek. My hand immediately went to the now tender area on my face, and started massaging it.

"How dare you!" Camille exclaimed.

I was raised not to hit a girl, but if she slapped me again, I couldn't make any promises. She certainly wasn't pulling any punches.

"Stop it! Both of you! This isn't helping Logan!" James remarked.

James was right. This wasn't helping Logan. Camille took her seat by Logan's side. I pulled up a chair at the foot of Logan's bed. There was no way I was sitting by that crazed girl.

"I'll be right outside. I'm going to sit with Katie, and decide whether or not I want to call Logan's parents," my mom said, before leaving.

That was just another reason I felt bad for Logan. He was an only child, but his parents didn't really pay much attention to him. When he would come home from school after getting beaten up by bullies, his parents didn't even try to get to the bottom of it. They just bought Logan's lies, and no more was said about the matter. Logan's grades and attendance were impeccable, but his parents didn't care. Logan could probably fail all his classes, and they still wouldn't care. It was like Logan kept trying to do amazing things to impress his parents, to get some kind of reaction out of them, but nothing. He was always spending the night at either my house, James's house, or Carlos's house. His parents didn't care. They just let him. It was almost like he was an inconvenience to them. I would actually be surprised if his parents flew out here to see him in the hospital. That would kind of mean that they actually gave a damn about him. Now that I think about it, maybe that's why Logan is the responsible one—he had to grow up fast, he had to be the adult in his own house because his parents certainly weren't.

"Hey Logan, it's me, Camille. I know I said that I didn't want to see you, but I lied. I'm here now, see? Anyways, you have to get better. You just have to. I don't want to lose you. None of us do," Camille said. She was an emotional wreck.

In a weird sort of way, I was actually kind of glad that Camille wasn't here when my mom was telling us about all of Logan's injuries. It's better that Camille doesn't know about the extent of his injuries. There's no telling how she would react to the news if she were to find out.

Camille's head perked up, and her eyes lit up with excitement.

"I think Logan just squeezed my hand," she stated.

I think all four of us leaned in closer. All of our eyes were trained on the hand that was interlaced with Camille's.

"Keep talking to him," Carlos suggested to Camille.

"Logan, if you can hear me, squeeze my hand again," she said.

The four of us stared intently. We waited anxiously. I don't think any of us blinked because we were afraid that we would miss something. Seconds ticked by. I could hear the second hand on the wall clock. One second, two seconds, three seconds…

Nothing. Logan didn't squeeze her hand. Maybe he never did in the first place. Maybe Camille was just imagining things. Or maybe he did, but it took so much effort that Logan didn't have anything left in the tank.

Then we saw something truly remarkable. Logan opened his right eye for the briefest of moments before quickly squeezing it shut. Then he slowly cracked it back open, and he was staring back at us. I couldn't believe it. I don't think any of us could. Camille flung herself at him, and wrapped her arms around him in a hug.

"Ouch! Careful," Logan said in a dry, hoarse voice.

Carlos literally had to pry Camille off of Logan.

"Whoa there, Camille. Take it easy. He's been through a lot," Carlos said, grinning from ear to ear.

I hated being wrong. I was however. Carlos was right. His plan to have Camille talk to Logan actually worked. I was served a dish of humble pie.

"Water," Logan croaked.

I quickly poured Logan some ice water. I handed the cup to Camille who handed it to Logan. He drank it greedily. Then he let out a deep sigh.

"Don't you ever scare us like that again," James said.

"Sorry," Logan replied.

Something was wrong though. The way he was looking around at his surroundings. He looked confused.

"We were all so worried about you," Carlos stated.

"Where am I? What happened?" Logan asked, his voice still hoarse, but not nearly as hoarse as it was when he first woke up.

My breath hitched in my throat. I was gripped by fear as I remembered what my mom said earlier about Logan's injuries. _He has a mild concussion._ If he didn't remember what happened or how he ended up in the hospital, then what else has he forgotten? Did he even know who we were? I started to mentally freak out.

"We were hoping you could tell us. How do you feel?" James asked.

"Like I just got ran over by a semi," Logan answered. "I didn't…you know…get run over by a semi, did I?"

"No. You got in a fight. Don't you remember?" Carlos asked. As optimistic as he was, even Carlos sounded worried.

"A fight? Please! Like that would ever happen," Logan commented.

I was scared. I was so scared. He didn't remember getting in a fight. No matter how you sliced it, that wasn't good. That wasn't good one bit.

"What's your name?" I asked.

"Are you okay? You're starting to freak me out. What's with the weird question?" Logan responded.

"Tell me your name."

"Logan."

I breathed a sigh of relief. Logan wasn't kidding when he said he was starting to freak out. There was a scared expression etched on his face. I looked around me, and saw Carlos, James, and even Camille urge me to continue.

"What are our names?" I asked.

"Are you serious? What is this all about?" Logan remarked.

"Humor me."

"You're Kendall. That's Carlos, James, and Camille."

I breathed another sigh of relief. Not only did he know who he was, but he knew who we were. It seemed like the only thing he had forgotten was how he winded up in the hospital. At least, I hoped that was the only thing he had forgotten.

My relief was short-lived though. The next thing I knew, Logan's right eye rolled into the back of his head. He started to foam at the mouth, and his whole body was convulsing violently. I was horrified. I didn't know what was happening. I sat there like a gaping idiot.

I was vaguely aware of James running out the door screaming, "We need a doctor in here!"

To Be Continued…

**A/N: Okay, so this was now the hardest chapter to write so far. I've noticed a pattern: I always tend to reply to reviews just before I upload the next chapter. That should help you readers/reviewers determine when I am going to update. Thank you so much for sticking with me. That being said, I think I'll go into hiding now. **


	16. Prognosis

**A/N: So, who is excited for Season 2 of BTR? The season premiere is this Saturday! I have to work that evening though. Boo! Thank goodness for DVRs though. This story reached another milestone—10,000 hits. I never expected that to happen. It's all because of all of you! You're all awesome!**

**Disclaimer: When I legally changed my name, I changed my name to Nickelodeon, so since Nickelodeon owns Big Time Rush…**

**Big Time Disaster**

_Prognosis_

_Carlos's POV_

Kendall, James, Camille, Mrs. Knight, Katie, and I were all in the hospital's waiting room. After James screamed for help, a whole bunch of doctors and nurses came running into Logan's room. They shooed us out so that they could better do their job. Sitting in the waiting room in a horribly uncomfortable chair, I think I understood why the waiting room was called a waiting room.

I didn't like waiting. I, Carlos Garcia, am not a patient person. I was always on the go. I was constantly doing things to keep my mind and my body busy. Kendall, James, and Logan compared me to the Energizer bunny. That's actually where I got my code name 'Rabbit's Foot' from. You know, The Good Luck Patrol. Logan was 'Lucky Charm' and I was 'Rabbit's Foot.' Wait a second. A bunny and a rabbit _are _the same thing, right?

Anyways, sitting in a chair in the hospital room, I got so bored. Seriously, what was taking so long? Logan was okay, right? If so, then why haven't they come out and told us anything yet? What if something was wrong? What if they weren't able to save Logan? What if they came in too late? What even happened to Logan in the first place?

It was horrible. Everything was great at first. My plan to get Logan to wake up had worked. He was alert, and seemed fine. Then, just like that, he wasn't fine anymore. He started foaming at the mouth. He looked like a fish out of water flopping on his hospital bed. His only open eye rolled to the back of his head. I had never been so scared in my life.

I think I understood why the chairs in hospital waiting rooms are so uncomfortable. I think it's supposed to be like some kind of distraction. See, the only thing you can think about is how uncomfortable the chair you're sitting in is. Since that is the only thing you can think about, you don't pay any attention to how much time has passed in the waiting room. See? I can use logic too. Logan would be proud.

Logan…Why was all this bad stuff happening to him? It was just like one thing after another. First, there was his ankle injury. Then, there was the restraining order. Then, he got arrested. Then, he got in a fight which landed him in the hospital. Then, he had whatever that was back there.

It wasn't fair! He had just woken up too! We didn't even get to spend much time with him before something else bad had to happen to him.

Back in Minnesota, Logan and I lived the closest to each other. We were practically always at each other's house. I used to have a pet cat named Sparky. Logan and I were both seven years old at the time. Sparky had climbed up in a tree, and was stuck. Without even thinking, I climbed up the tree to fetch my cat. I couldn't quite reach him though. I tried to get Logan to climb up and help me, but instead he just lectured me about how unsafe it was to climb trees because the branches could only hold so much weight, and how high the tree was off the ground. I remembered I started crying because I was seven years old and I really wanted my cat. The next thing I knew, Logan had climbed up the tree too, I think to stop me from crying. We both tried to reach Sparky, but he was still fingertips away. Then, Logan came up with an idea. He tore off a piece of his sweater vest, and rolled it up in a ball. That got Sparky's attention. Logan accidentally dropped the ball, and Sparky dove off the branch after it. Logan told me not to worry because cats always land on their feet. Then, I heard Sparky meow his last meow. I kept asking Logan why Sparky was so still. That is how I lost my pet cat, Sparky. To this day, I think Logan still blames himself. I keep telling him that it wasn't his fault.

I liked trying to get Logan to do stuff with me because it was a challenge, and I love a good challenge. James was game even when it came to the craziest of my ideas. The two of us knew how to have a good time; that was for sure. Kendall usually went along with my ideas unless it was like really crazy. As for Logan, it was always fun trying to convince him to go along with my ideas. He would always point out why my ideas wouldn't work, or how unsafe they were, but I usually got him to go along with my ideas anyways. We're like total opposites, but I think that's why we make such great friends. Believe it or not, Logan can be almost as crazy as me—almost, but that's only when it's just the two of us. When it's just the two of us, I get him to loosen up and not be such a party pooper.

I checked the watch on my wrist for like the gazillionth time. I didn't even remember when they shooed us out of Logan's hospital room. I had no idea how long we had been waiting in the waiting room. All I knew was that it was 5:45 p.m. now.

My leg bounced up and down repeatedly. I twiddled my thumbs. I couldn't take sitting in this chair anymore, so I stood up and started pacing back and forth. No one said a word. No one really knew what to say at a time like this. I think all of us were scared. Seeing Logan thrashing about like that, I'll never forget it.

Finally, a doctor came out. He was young; I don't know how young exactly. I was never good at guessing people's ages. He was older than me, but younger than Kendall's mom. He had slicked back blonde hair that was parted on the side. He was about the same height as James, and had a similar build.

"Are you the ones here for Logan Mitchell?" he asked.

"Yes, I'm Mrs. Knight, Logan's guardian. How is he?" Mrs. Knight asked, standing up.

It was kind of weird hearing Kendall's mom call herself Logan's guardian. I mean she was like a second mom to all of us, but still, guardian sounds like something from an RPG video game or something.

"I'm Dr. Taylor. He's doing fine. He's resting comfortably," Dr. Taylor informed us.

Resting. Logan was resting. He's been doing a lot of that lately. I guess that's good though. He's been through a lot lately. It's had to have taken a toll on his body. Logan probably needs all the rest he can get. Poor guy.

"What happened exactly?" Camille asked, standing up as well.

"He had a seizure. I'm curious. Has he ever had seizures before?" Dr. Taylor asked.

Seizure? What's a seizure? I hate it when people use words I don't know.

"Not that I know of," Mrs. Knight answered.

"Hmm…interesting. Then his seizure must have been the direct result of head trauma," Dr. Taylor stated, even though it seemed like he was just thinking out loud.

"Will it happen again?" James asked this time.

"It's hard to say. I can say with absolute certainty that he had a post-traumatic seizure. Whether this was an isolated incident or he has post-traumatic epilepsy remains to be seen. Just to be safe, I've prescribed some Dilantin for Logan," Dr. Taylor said, tearing off a slip of paper and handing it to Kendall's mom.

Okay, now the good doctor just used like five words that I have no idea what they even mean. It looks like I have some research to do when we get back to The Palm Woods.

"Dilantin? What's that?" Kendall asked.

"It's a widely used seizure medication that helps to stop seizures from happening. If Logan has post-traumatic epilepsy though, you should know that there is no cure for epilepsy," Dr. Taylor explained.

No cure? Did that mean Logan could die from epi—whatever? Was it like cancer?

"Wait a second. I thought you said that the medicine stops seizures from happening?" I asked.

"It depends on the patient really. Every patient reacts to even the same medicine differently. The medicine could stop seizures from happening altogether for some patients. Other patients, the medicine will only help seizures from happening _as frequently_. Like I said before though, if a patient has epilepsy, there is no cure, so the seizures therefore won't ever stop completely," Dr. Taylor said.

"So how do we know if he has epilepsy or not?" Mrs. Knight asked.

"We'll just have to wait and see," Dr. Taylor replied.

"Wait and see? That's it? Are you kidding me? So there's nothing we can do for Logan? I thought you're supposed to be a doctor! Aren't you supposed to save people? Why can't you save Logan?" Kendall shouted.

Kendall's yelling got a bunch of other people's attention. He was causing a scene. Now, a bunch of other friends and family members of other patients, and hospital employees were all watching us.

"Kendall, stop yelling at Dr. Taylor," Mrs. Knight reprimanded.

"Well hopefully, the Dilantin will help," Dr. Taylor said, unfazed by Kendall's outburst.

"So let me get this straight; you're giving Logan medication that may or may not help treat a condition that he may or may not have? Aren't you loads of help?" Kendall remarked.

"Kendall!" Mrs. Knight scolded.

"It's quite alright Mrs. Knight. He's just upset, and understandably so," Dr. Taylor commented.

"Upset? You bet I'm upset! My best friend just had a seizure, and he might have more later, while you just give him medicine and hope for the best? You're a doctor! Fix him!" Kendall yelled.

I was surprised by how calm, cool, and collected Dr. Taylor remained throughout all of this. No matter how much Kendall yelled at him, Dr. Taylor remained professional.

All of us were scared. This all seemed so hopeless. It was so frustrating too that the only thing that could possibly help Logan might not even help him at all. I kind of wanted to lay into the doctor myself, but Kendall beat me to the punch.

_Other patients, the medicine will only help seizures from occurring as frequently._ As frequently? What's that supposed to mean? How frequent are we talking about here? Quite frankly, I don't ever want to see that happen to Logan again.

What were the rest of us supposed to do? Surely, there had to be something we could do to help Logan. I wanted to help Logan. I wanted that real bad, but from what Dr. Taylor told us, there's nothing I can do. There's nothing any of us can do. I couldn't stand feeling so helpless.

Dr. Taylor got paged. He pulled out his beeper and checked it.

"I'll keep you posted. If you'll excuse me, I have some other patients to check on," Dr. Taylor said, before walking down the hallway.

"Wait! Can we see Logan?" Camille called out.

"Yes, of course. Just remember that he's resting," Dr. Taylor responded.

"_I have some other patients to check on. Just remember that he's resting._ What a jerk!" Kendall remarked.

"Kendall, stop it. I thought he was quite helpful," Mrs. Knight said.

Listening to Kendall let Dr. Taylor have it made me remember that I think I was supposed to be mad at Kendall. I had almost completely forgotten about that. Wait. Why were Kendall and I fighting again? Oh well, it seems pretty pointless anyways. I have much bigger problems to worry about than a grudge against Kendall. Logan was fighting for his life.

Kendall, James, Camille, and I wasted little time heading for Room 307. We noticed that Kendall's mom wasn't coming with us.

"Mom, aren't you coming?" Kendall asked.

"I'll check in later. Right now, the four of you go ahead. Besides, I want to be here for Katie in case she wakes up soon," Mrs. Knight answered.

Sure enough, Katie was sound asleep. I had no idea how she could sleep through all the yelling. She must have been really exhausted or a heavy sleeper or something.

So the four of us entered Logan's hospital room once again. It was just as Dr. Taylor said—Logan was resting comfortably. He looked so peaceful. The best part though was that at least when he was asleep, he wasn't in pain, or at least he didn't look like he was in pain.

Camille was instantly at Logan's bedside. She immediately held his hand in hers. Seeing how my plan worked so brilliantly the first time around, Camille went for the hat trick.

"Logan? Can you hear me? I know you're probably really tired, but can you wake up for me for just a little bit? Then you can go back to sleep," Camille said.

"What's your problem? Just let him sleep!" Kendall remarked.

"You want him to wake up just as much as I do!" Camille countered.

"Yeah, but he also needs his rest! He's been through so much already."

"Oh my gosh, will you two call a truce already? I am sick of the two of you bickering with each other! Kendall, I get that you're upset, but lashing out at everybody isn't helping!" James exclaimed.

I was scared again, but this time for an entirely different reason. What was happening to us? We were falling apart. We were all fighting with each other. What would Logan think if he saw how we were acting? I bet he'd be pretty disappointed in us.

"Can you keep it down?" Logan mumbled, startling us.

"Logan? Logan!" I exclaimed, racing over to his bedside.

The four of us all crowded around Logan. All of our differences were set aside for the time being. We were all so incredibly happy to hear Logan talking and to see Logan awake that nothing else mattered at the moment.

"How are you? How do you feel?" Camille asked.

"Tired. So tired. Can I go back to sleep now?" Logan asked, his voice dry and hoarse again.

"Not yet," a man's voice answered.

We looked towards the doorway and saw a middle-aged man wearing a suit and carrying a briefcase. He had a balding head, and wore glasses that were half-falling off his face. He wasn't very tall either.

"Logan Mitchell, I'm Mr. Smith. I'm the public defender that's been appointed to you. Now unfortunately, I have some bad news; you're on the waiting list to get a bail hearing. Once you are medically cleared to leave the hospital, you will return to the juvenile detention center until your bail hearing. After your bail hearing, as long as someone can post bail for you, you will be free to leave the juvenile detention center," Mr. Smith explained.

"He has to go back there? No way! There's no way I'm letting him go back there!" James exclaimed.

"Mr. Smith, isn't there something you can do? He got in a fight there. That's how he ended up here in the hospital in the first place," I said.

"I'm sorry. My hands are tied," Mr. Smith replied.

I felt bad for thinking it, but I hoped Logan wouldn't be medically cleared to leave the hospital before he got a bail hearing. I rather have him here in the hospital where I know he's safe than back in juvie where he wouldn't be safe.

To Be Continued…

**A/N: In case you were wondering why I decided to go with a seizure storyline, there are actually two reasons: 1) when I was really young, I had seizures myself and 2) to my knowledge, and I could be wrong, a seizure storyline hasn't been done in any BTR story I've read, and when it comes to writing, I like to do things people haven't done before. If there are any medical or legal mistakes, forgive me. I did some research, but it wasn't like extensive research or anything, so yeah. **


	17. Family Reunion

**A/N: So I have Wednesday and Thursday off this week. A lot of you want me to give Logan a break, so this chapter is sort of filler. Plus, some of you have been itching for a certain character to make her return. **

**Disclaimer: I kind of don't want to even bother with these anymore, but knowing my luck, the one time I don't include it, someone will like sue me for copyright infringement or something like that. Having said that, I still don't own Big Time Rush. I don't foresee that changing any time soon either. I still am not making a profit by writing this. **

**Big Time Disaster**

_Family Reunion_

_Camille's POV_

Visiting hours at the hospital were over. Unfortunately, that meant that I had to return to The Palm Woods. I really wanted to stay with Logan, but the hospital staff wouldn't let me. I hated being away from him. I hated not knowing how he was doing every waking moment. What if he had another seizure while I was gone? What if he started to get worse, and I wasn't there?

That was the first time I had ever seen anybody have a seizure, and I hoped it would be the last time too. It was so terrifying seeing someone you care about convulsing like that. No one should convulse like that. That wasn't even the worst part though; the worst part was how helpless you felt while you were watching someone you cared about have a seizure. It went against every single instinct you have to just stand there and watch, but there really wasn't anything you could do to help even if you wanted to.

They say that in times of crisis, people come together to support and be there for one another. I never really knew how true that was until today. That was something Kendall, James, Carlos, and I experienced together. Somehow it brought us closer. Well, I don't know about Kendall; he still pretty much hates my guts. Anyways, all of us probably felt the same way I felt—we would watch Logan from now on like a hawk. It's just how could I watch Logan like a hawk if the hospital wouldn't even allow me to be with him?

I was surprised to see my mom waiting for me outside my apartment. What was she doing here? When did she get here? Why didn't she tell me she was coming?

"Mom? It's so good to see you!" I beamed.

The two of us shared a long overdue hug. The last time I had seen my mom was when my dad and I left Connecticut for Hollywood. That had been over one year ago. Our only communication since then had been e-mails, texts, and phone calls.

My mom and I looked so similar to one another that sometimes, back in Connecticut, people would mistake her for my older sister. We had the same color and style of hair. We were very similar in height and weight, so much so that we would often share clothes. We both had the same color of eyes. Really the only thing that was different about us wasn't anything related to our appearance at all; it was our personalities. I was outgoing and she was reserved.

"It's great to see you too honey! I would have waited for you inside the apartment, but I didn't have a keycard," my mom said.

"You have no idea how much I've missed you," I commented.

It was true too especially considering the way my father had been acting lately. I desperately needed some sort of parental figure. I desperately needed my mom. One of my biggest regrets was that I wasn't closer to my mom—that I didn't appreciate her nearly as much as she deserved. She had always known I was a daddy's girl, but she was never bitter or resentful of that.

I stuck my keycard into the slot, and opened the door. After closing and locking the door behind me, my mom and I walked into the living room and had a seat on the sofa. We both held each other's hands, and positioned our bodies so that we were facing one another.

"Why didn't you tell me you were coming?" I asked.

"I wanted to surprise you," my mom answered.

"After the day I've had, you have no idea how much I needed this."

"Why? What happened?"

I hesitated telling her what had occurred today. It wasn't because I didn't want her to know though. It was just that telling her that would force me to relive it all over again, and I didn't know if I wanted to put myself through that.

"Sweetie, you know you can tell me anything, right?" my mom stated.

I knew that. Since the last time my mom and I had talked, so many things have happened—all of them scary. I knew my mother wasn't trying to pry. She wasn't like that at all. She was only asking because she sincerely wanted to do anything in her power to help me in whatever way she could. I took a deep breath.

"The last time we spoke, remember how I said Logan got arrested?" I asked.

"Yes," my mom responded.

"Well, when he was in juvenile hall, he got in a fight. He was beaten up so badly that he had to be taken to the hospital."

"Oh Camille, I'm so sorry."

"So then Carlos called me and asked me to come visit Logan. He had this idea that if Logan heard my voice, he might wake up. I went there and decided it was worth a shot, and it worked. Logan woke up."

"That's great!"

"Yeah, it was great, but then shortly after, he had a seizure. We talked to Logan's doctor later, and he told us that there is a possibility that Logan might have epilepsy."

My mom pulled me into a hug. I buried my face in the crook of her neck, and gave in to the tears that threatened to spill from my eyes.

"It was bad enough seeing him have his first seizure. I don't ever want to see him have another one. The mere thought of that…" I sobbed.

"There, there, honey. Everything will be fine," my mom said reassuringly.

I pulled back from my mom's embrace, and looked at her with skeptical, tear-filled eyes.

"How can you say that? You don't know," I remarked. "What if he has another seizure? What if he has epilepsy?"

"_If_ that happens, then he will have you and all of his friends there for him to help him through it. Camille, you don't know that Logan will have another seizure; let's just take it one day at a time, okay?" my mother replied.

My mom was right. I knew she was. Even though there was a chance that Logan could have epilepsy, there was also a chance that he won't even have a second seizure. I just immediately assumed the worst. It was hard to be optimistic though; it was hard to remain optimistic when you had this sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach that this was far from over—this was just the beginning.

I saw my mom break eye contact with me. Just before she did, I saw a flash of an emotion that I couldn't quite make out. It may have been guilt. That didn't make any sense. What did she have to be guilty about? This wasn't her fault. She was in Connecticut when all this happened.

"Mom, what's wrong?" I asked.

"It's nothing, Camille. I wanted to talk to you about something, but you already have so much to deal with that I don't want to be a burden," my mom answered.

"Mom, look at me."

She reluctantly made eye contact with me.

"Are you sure? This can wait," my mom said.

"I'm sure. Now, what is it?" I replied.

"Honey, how would you feel about me and your father getting a divorce?"

A divorce? I had a feeling this was coming, but even then, nothing could have prepared me for this. My world as I knew it was rocked to the core. I knew that divorce was starting to become more and more common. Still, I never wanted to be one of those kids whose parents got a divorce. I didn't want to be one of those children who came from a broken home.

I felt a fresh wave of tears stream down my eyes. Now I wasn't crying because of what happened to Logan. Now I was crying because my parents wanted to get a divorce. What would happen now? Who would I live with? Would there be a custody battle over me? Maybe there was something I could have done to stop my parents from getting a divorce. What if their getting a divorce was somehow my fault?

"Why are you asking me? It's not _my_ decision to make!" I snapped.

"I'm asking you because your opinion matters to me. I'm asking you because I don't want to do anything that makes you in any way uncomfortable. I'm asking you because if you don't want me to divorce your father, then just say the word, and I'll respect your wish," my mom replied.

I instantly felt bad for snapping at my mother. Here she was basically asking for my permission to divorce my dad. She had much too big of a heart for her own good. The only thing that mattered to her wasn't how she felt about Dad, but how I felt. My opinion and my needs were somehow more important to her than her own.

"Do you love Dad?" I asked. I had asked her that before, but some time had passed since then. Maybe things had changed.

"Call me crazy, but I do. I think I always will. I don't think you can ever really fall out of love with someone," my mom answered.

"Why not? Dad did."

I felt like such a horrible person. My mom was still in love with someone who didn't even love her back. This whole time I've been growing closer to my father, it was at the expense of my mother; I was distancing myself from her. She wouldn't even have known that my dad didn't love her anymore if I hadn't told her. I don't know. Maybe it would have been better that way.

"I don't know the answer to that, Camille. Maybe he never even loved me to begin with, but for me, it was real. He was the first boy I ever had a crush on. He was the first boy I had ever kissed. He was the first boyfriend, the only boyfriend, I ever had. He was my first everything," my mom said.

"I don't get it. If you still love him, then why do you want a divorce?" I asked.

"I can't stay with someone who doesn't love me back. I deserve better than that."

She did deserve better than that. Staying with my father for my sake wasn't fair to my mom. As much as I wanted my parents to stay together, I also wanted my mom to be happy. It was just too bad that it seemed like I could have one but not the other.

"If you don't want me to get a divorce though…" my mom started to say.

"No, I _want_ you to divorce Dad. You do deserve better Mom. You deserve to be with someone who loves you as much as you love him," I admitted.

Since I was a minor, there was still the issue of custody. The last thing I wanted was there to be an ugly custody battle over me. Even after everything my dad has pulled lately, I don't know if I could choose one parent over another. I mean my dad _used to be_ my best friend. If I did choose my mom over my dad, there was no telling how my dad might react.

The front door opened, and in walked my father. Much like I was, he was surprised to see my mother in the apartment with me.

"Susan? When did you get here? It's so good to see you," my dad remarked.

He walked over to my mom, and leaned in for a kiss, but my mom had no desire to kiss him. Instead, she slapped him across his right cheek. Now you know where I got _that_ from.

"Ouch! What was that for?" my dad asked.

"The game's over, Martin!" my mom exclaimed.

"Game? What game?"

"I want a divorce!"

"A divorce? Where is this coming from?"

"You can stop pretending. The cat's out of the bag. I know you don't love me anymore."

"Who told you that?"

My dad then turned to look at me. I quickly averted my gaze. I knew he would be furious with me. I had betrayed him. I told my mom something my dad told me in confidence. It's not that I regretted it though. My mom had every right to know.

"You told her? You weren't supposed to tell her that! Now you're going to have to live with the consequences. You think I was bad before, you haven't seen anything yet. Don't think for one second that I didn't know you went to see your boyfriend in the hospital," my dad said.

My heart skipped a beat. How did my dad know about that? I was extra careful too. I didn't even tell him Logan was in the hospital. How did he know where I was going? Did he have me followed? Or did he just follow me himself? Either way, that was all kinds of creepy.

"It would be a shame if something else were to happen to your precious Logan," my father said sarcastically.

"Leave him alone! It's me you have a problem with!" I shouted.

I was scared. I didn't like the ominous, foreboding warning my father just gave me. Logan had been through enough already. He didn't need my father coming after him again.

"Don't worry Camille. Your father won't be doing anything to Logan because your father is going to have to find somewhere else to stay. I'm moving in, I'm kicking him out, and I want full custody," my mom said.

My father laughed in response. He shook his finger at both me and my mom.

"This isn't over," he said.

"Oh, yes it is. No judge is going to award you custody when you don't have your own place or your own job," my mom remarked.

"What about you? If you're moving out here, then you don't have a job either."

"Yes I do. I got a job transfer."

My father then turned his attention to me. I could see the hatred and betrayal in his eyes. I could practically see the gears turning in his head. My whole life I had been closer to him, and now I was siding with my mom. I knew he was set on revenge, and he wouldn't be satisfied until he got it. I just wish I knew what he had in my mind, so I could be prepared.

"No matter how much you might hate me, you will always be my daughter, and I will always be your father. Just remember that anything that happens to Logan is on your hands," my father said before walking out of the apartment that was no longer his.

To Be Continued…

**A/N: Can you believe it? I actually gave both Mr. Sanders and Mrs. Sanders first names! Who would have thunk it? I feel like there should be some support group called Fan Fiction Anonymous, F.A. I can just see it now: "I'm Eric, and I'm addicted to fan fiction." "Hi Eric." Oh snap! I just told you my first name. Now you are one step closer to tracking me down and doing unspeakable things to me for what I've done and am planning to do to Logan in this story.**


	18. Facing the Unknown

**A/N: Okay, so do you know how addicted to BTR I am? I name the characters in an RPG video game I'm playing after characters on the show BTR. Is that…healthy? On iTunes there is a new BTR song for sale, 'Til I Forget About You.' It's $0.99. You can also buy Season 1 on iTunes for $19.99. It includes well…all the episodes from Season 1…from Big Time Audition to Big Time Concert. Although, Live From Times Square is actually under Season 2 (why is beyond me), and that is free. I'm plugging their merchandise. Gosh, I need serious help…**

**Disclaimer: I've bought six songs, one music video, and four BTR episodes from iTunes, but that's as close as I am to owning anything BTR related. I'd buy more, but I only have the salary of a cart pusher. Yeah…'nuff said.**

**Big Time Disaster**

_Facing the Unknown_

_Logan's POV_

I woke up to find Kendall, James, Carlos, and Camille crowded around my hospital bed. Ugh! I really need to stop waking up in a hospital room. This is starting to get real old real quick. Did they even go home last night? Or did they just camp out in my hospital room? Knowing them, they probably did. Figures. They really should have went home and slept in their own beds. They're probably much more comfortable than the chairs in my hospital room. Besides, I probably didn't make for very good company. All I did was sleep.

"Hey buddy! How are you feeling?" Carlos asked eagerly.

I couldn't help but notice that he wasn't wearing his helmet. I remembered him saying something about being in such a rush to see me that he forgot his helmet. That was when I was first brought to the hospital after…well, after whatever happened at juvenile hall. I still don't remember that part. At any rate, seeing Carlos without his helmet was touching.

"Good, I guess. Just tired," I answered.

I was tired. Why was I tired exactly? I slept like a baby last night. I didn't wake up once. At least, I didn't remember waking up in the middle of the night. Wait. Why does it feel like I'm missing something? Why was everyone staring at me so intently? They really should blink. It's like they're afraid to or something. What do they think they'll miss if they do?

"What do you remember about what happened yesterday?" James asked.

"What happened yesterday? What are you talking about? What's going on?" I replied, starting to grow concerned.

Hold on. They were watching me like hawks. They're asking me if I remembered what happened yesterday. Come to think of it, there are portions of yesterday that are a blank to me. Think Logan, think. I remember waking up to Camille's voice not once, but twice. That's it. Something must have happened to me. Why else would I have to wake up a second time? Wait. What happened to me?

"Guys, whatever it is, just tell me. You're kind of freaking me out here," I commented.

James and Carlos turned to Kendall. Camille couldn't bear to look me in the eyes for some reason.

"Kendall," I said feebly.

"Logie, you had a seizure. You gave us all a real scare," Kendall explained.

A seizure? That's impossible! I don't have a history of seizures. I've never had a seizure in my life, until apparently now. Wait. Why did I have a seizure in the first place? Why didn't I remember having a seizure? Oh no! They _saw_ me have a seizure?

"I'm sorry," I replied.

"You had a seizure, and you're apologizing? For what? It's not your fault you had a seizure, Logan," James stated.

I was a plethora of emotions. The predominant ones were embarrassed and ashamed though. A seizure. That would certainly explain the gaps in my memory. From what I know about seizures, it is typical that patients don't remember having a seizure in the first place. So, when I woke up the second time, it was after I had a seizure.

"I know, but I still wish you guys hadn't seen me like…_that_," I said earnestly.

A sharp pain in my ribs caused me to take a sharp intake of breath. I clenched my teeth and hissed in pain. Why did my ribs hurt? Did I bruise them? Crack them? Break them? Why can't I remember anything that happened to me? This is so frustrating!

"Logan, are you okay?" Kendall asked quickly.

"I'm fine," I said a little too suddenly.

The four of them leaned in closer, and here I thought that wasn't even possible, what with the way they already had been hovering over me. I hated this. I seriously didn't like it when people fussed over me. They were treating me like an invalid. I wasn't an invalid!

"No, you're not. You're in pain. Do you need us to get a doctor?" Carlos asked.

"No!" I exclaimed.

"Why not? Maybe they can give you some pain medication," Kendall said.

"I don't need pain medication," I remarked stubbornly.

I didn't understand why I was acting this way. Why was I so dead set against taking some pain medication? It would help make the pain go away.

"Logan, please, you don't have to be a tough guy for us," James commented.

I locked eyes with James, and saw the pleading look in his eyes. He hated seeing me in pain. They all did. It's not that I was some sort of masochist either. Believe me, I didn't enjoy being in pain—physical or otherwise.

"I don't want to get addicted," I blurted out.

Where did that come from? Was that really what was the matter? I mean sure, some people become so dependent on pain medication for the quick fix it provides, but I mean so long as I exercised caution, that wouldn't happen to me. The mere idea of not feeling any pain sounded so tempting.

"You rather be in pain?" Camille asked.

I started bawling. I have no idea why either. Why was all this happening to me? Why can't I get my memory back? Is this how it's going to be? Everyone's going to have to fill in the gaps in my memory for me. Why was I so moody? I wanted to do nothing more but scream my lungs out, yet here I was blubbering like a baby.

Camille wrapped her arms around me, and held me while I cried. She held my head to hers. Through the haze of tears, I could see how worried everyone was about me. I could already tell they didn't know what to make of my behavior. I didn't know what to make of my behavior either.

I started to remember bits and pieces of a conversation yesterday. It was still kind of a blur to me, but I seem to recall a guy coming in carrying a briefcase. He said something about me having to go back. Go back? Go back where? I think Carlos said something about how I got in a fight? A fight? Me? That's…not likely. Although, that would explain why my ribs hurt so much. If I was in a fight though, surely I'd remember that, right? Then again, I can't remember much of anything lately.

No one said anything. Great. I probably scared everyone. They probably didn't know what to say. The only sound that could be heard was the sound of me crying.

It took awhile, but eventually I had calmed down. My breathing had returned to normal. Occasionally, I would sniffle, but my eyes were dry. That was good, right?

"I'm sorry," I said.

"Logan, stop apologizing. You have nothing to be sorry about. We're here for you, whatever you need. All of us. You're going to get through this," Kendall said.

"We'll be with you every step of the way," Carlos added.

I was so incredibly frightened. I wanted to say something to them, but I didn't trust myself enough to speak. I couldn't seem to control my moods, so there was no telling what might come out of my mouth.

I just wanted things to go back to normal. Was that so much to ask for? I just wanted to _feel_ normal. I didn't want to be in pain. I didn't want to be moody. I just wanted to be…_me_…again. I would give anything to be me again.

There was this stabbing pain in my ribcage. The slightest movement hurt. I couldn't even breathe without being in pure agony. I clenched my teeth and tried my best to mask the pain that was no doubt on my face. There was no need making them worry about me more than they already were.

I laid my head down on the pillow. I was so tired…still. I had absolutely no desire to do anything. I mean even if I could. I was just trying to make sense of everything. Usually, I always had the answers. Now though, all I had were questions.

"Logan, what do you know about seizures and…what's that other word?" Carlos asked.

"Epilepsy," James said.

"Yeah, epilepsy," Carlos finished.

I think I knew what Carlos was really asking. What he wanted to know was if I would have another seizure. Frankly, I wondered the same thing. I still couldn't believe they saw me have a seizure. I feel so awful. Now they probably have nightmares about that.

"If you just have one, it's called a seizure. There's a thirty to fifty percent chance that I'll have a second seizure. People who continue to have seizures have epilepsy, which although it can be treated and managed, can't ever really be cured," I explained.

One good thing about me wanting to be a doctor was that I was actually knowledgeable about pretty much any medical condition that I may suffer from. Really, it was a blessing and a curse. It was a blessing because I actually understood what was happening to me and what was to come. It was a curse because I also knew about all the statistics, which weren't always very favorable.

For example, people with epilepsy have shorter life expectancies than people who have never had a seizure. I just couldn't bring myself to tell Carlos that. Who am I kidding? I couldn't bring myself to tell any of them that. How do you tell someone something like that? See, that's why I chose to leave that out of my description of epilepsy.

"Yeah, but could you…_die_…from it?" Carlos asked, his bottom lip quivering.

I playfully socked Carlos in the shoulder.

"Please Carlos, you can't get rid of me _that _easy," I remarked, giving him a warm smile.

I was smiling now? I was just crying a little while ago! Weird. I really am moody. Maybe it had something to do with my having had a seizure. Come to think of it, that is a hallmark behavior of patients after having a seizure.

"Your doctor prescribed some Dilantin for you. He said that it might not even help you in the first place. Why is he even bothering giving it to you then if there's a chance it won't even work?" Kendall remarked.

It was so uncanny. It was like the four of them were breathing as a unit. They inhaled together. They exhaled together. All of them continued to watch me like a hawk. I had a feeling I would have no choice but to get used to that. I can't really blame them though. If roles were reversed, I'd do the same thing.

"Yeah, but there's a chance that it will work. In fact, effective treatment can halve the incident rate of a second seizure. So really, instead of a 30-50% chance of a second seizure, there would be a 15-25% chance of having a second seizure. Isn't that a chance you're willing to take?" I asked.

"It's so weird. We're finding out more about seizures from you than we did from your own doctor," James commented.

Why did James sound so surprised? After all, I wasn't called the brains of the group for nothing.

My demeanor changed suddenly. There was something that I needed to tell them. I didn't believe there was such a thing as being too prepared. There was something they needed to know if they were to be prepared for what might be in my future.

I willed myself to shut out the pain I was feeling. I sincerely believed pain was a psychosomatic response. Essentially, as long as you didn't think you were in pain, you wouldn't be. More commonly, it's known as mind over matter.

"We should talk about what to do if I have another…" I started to say before I was interrupted.

"Logan, don't," Kendall urged.

"…if I have another seizure," I finished.

"Logan, stop! You won't have another seizure. So it's pointless to even talk about it," Kendall remarked.

It was painfully obvious that I wasn't the only one who was scared. Everyone in the room was scared. I was a very analytical person. I was also very empathetic. I could sense the sorrow coming off the four of them in waves. The pleading look in their eyes, begging me not to continue, pulled at my heartstrings. They had to know though. I had to tell them now. If it happens later, it will be too late to tell them. Plus, I won't be in the right…frame of mind…to tell them anything.

"If I have another seizure, it's important that you do not try to stop me from thrashing. Also, do not attempt to put anything in my mouth. I know you'll probably want to help—to do something—but neither of those things will help. This next part seems like common sense, but make sure that nothing that could potentially be used as a weapon is near me. I realize this will probably be the furthest thing from your mind, but pay close attention to how long my seizure lasts. If it lasts longer than five minutes, or if it is followed by a second seizure, _then_ call for an ambulance. Lastly, once I stopped seizing, make sure I'm not laying flat on my back, or else I could start choking," I said.

Kendall, James, Carlos, and Camille all had stunned looks on their faces. I realize this was a lot of information for them to take in all at once, but I felt better knowing that I told them what to do if I should happen to have another seizure. I just hoped they would remember everything should they need to.

I was grateful that Kendall, James, Carlos, and Camille were here. However, I found myself continuously looking at the door. It was silly, but I guess I was expecting my parents to walk through the door any second now. Didn't anybody tell them what was going on with me? Did they even care? I wanted my parents. I needed my parents. My gaze was fixated on the door as tears fell silently down my face.

To Be Continued…

**A/N: Yeah, I have no idea where this chapter came from. I had no difficulty writing it. I don't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing though. I'm on a roll now. I'm practically spoiling you, but don't get too used to it. Seriously, don't. Yeah…that's all I got. After I upload this, I'm going to bed. I'm pretty tired myself.**


	19. Goodbye Seems To Be the Hardest Word

**A/N: Season 2 of BTR premieres tomorrow! Yay! Oh, so I had a flash of inspiration today while I was pushing carts (which the literal task of pushing carts had NOTHING to do with it). Do you remember those two stories that way back when I considered writing at the same time as this? Well, I thought up a title for the Logan/Camille one. Plus, I thought of a kick awesome plot bunny for it too! Haha, "kick awesome" That's me effectively dodging having a potty mouth. Seriously, people actually try to goad me into saying a curse word; THAT is how seldom I have a potty mouth. Oh, and I realize I'm being incredibly vague about the other Logan/Camille fic brewing in my mind. That's because I'm insanely paranoid. I don't want to diverge too much information because I am scared someone will hijack my story title and/or plot bunny. Did I mention I was paranoid? Not that they would necessarily write exactly the same story as me, but it's kind of like, "Hey, it was my idea first!" You know? Wow! I ramble a lot. Okay, on with the story, but first that other…thing…that comes before the story title. Yeah. THAT thing. You KNOW what I'm talking about. **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Ha! The day I actually own a TV show, is the day Fish Stick Friday becomes a national holiday. I honestly don't know where that came from…sometimes it's better not to ask, so…don't ask me. **

**Big Time Disaster**

_Goodbye Seems To Be the Hardest Word to Say_

_Camille's POV_

It had been one week since Logan had his seizure. Every day we held our breath. Every day we feared what the day could bring. Was today the day Logan would have another seizure? Would he even have another seizure? Each day that passed without incident also meant that Logan was one day closer to quite possibly having an incident. That wasn't a very comforting thought.

He was doing better. Each day he was doing better than the day before. The doctors kept him on his seizure medication, but they were weaning him off the pain medication. Logan was almost to the point where he didn't even need it anymore. He was almost to the point where he wasn't in any more pain…at least _physically_.

Logan was so frustrated by the gaps in his memory. We told him everything we knew, which really wasn't much more than he knew. This just made his frustration worse. He tried to sweep it under the rug, hoping we wouldn't notice. Every time he would ask us a question about something he couldn't remember, we knew. We all knew.

It felt like there was a weight on my shoulders that wouldn't relent. The more I tried to ignore it, the heavier the burden became. My mom encouraged me to talk to someone about it. I talked to her, and that helped, but there were still some things that I couldn't even talk to my own mother about. I thought about talking to Logan, but he's already been through so much, the last thing he needs to worry about is my problems.

However, he knew that something was troubling me. I was the only one visiting him at the hospital at the time. Kendall, James, and Carlos were at Rocque Records. My schedule was an open book for the day. I hadn't been to any auditions since Logan had his seizure. I felt like he needed me more than I needed to go to an audition. Besides, I didn't want him to be alone.

"Camille, what's wrong?" Logan asked.

I looked up into his eyes and they shone with concern. It was ironic. He was the one in the hospital, yet he was worried about me. That was just the kind of guy he was though. It was one of the things I loved about him. It was one of the reasons I loved him.

"It's nothing," I lied, looking down.

He had much bigger problems to worry about; the possibility of having another seizure, the possibility of having to go back to juvenile hall, his parents. They still hadn't come to see him yet. I asked Mrs. Knight if they knew what had happened to Logan. She had told them. Do you want to know what their response was? They said, "Unless he's dying, there's really no need for us to be there." Can you believe that? That was something we kept to ourselves though. We didn't dare tell Logan.

He lifted my chin up with his index finger so that our gazes met. There was a pleading look in his eyes that chipped away at my resolve. I could already feel my conviction wavering.

"Camille, talk to me. Let me help you," he said.

It really wasn't fair. Logan had already done so much for me. He had already gone above and beyond. How could I, in good conscience, ask any more of him? I wasn't blind. I knew his getting arrested was a grand, romantic gesture that was meant to show how much he cared about me. I'll never forget how he dressed up like a prince and rode on a fake horse to ask me out to the school dance at The Palm Woods. I had always known what crushes were, but I never knew what _love _was until I met Logan.

I sighed. I just couldn't say 'no' to Logan. Here goes nothing.

"My mom's in town," I said.

Inwardly, I chastised myself for chickening out at the last minute.

"O…kay…" Logan replied, clearly befuddled.

"My parents are getting a divorce," I blurted out.

I had no idea what made me blurt it out like that, but now that I had, there was no taking it back. Just hearing me say the D-word made my eyes start to get moist. The next thing I knew, Logan pulled me in for a hug. He held my head to his chest, and I wept.

"I'm so sorry, Camille," he said.

My waterworks ceased momentarily. I pulled my head back, and looked at him, blinking a few times in disbelief.

"What do you have to be sorry for? This isn't your fault. Besides, my dad hate…isn't your biggest fan," I commented.

"I don't hate your father Camille, despite however he may feel about me. Sure, we don't exactly get along, but I don't _hate_ him. Anyways, no one should have to go through their parents getting a divorce. I wouldn't wish that on anybody," Logan replied.

I was completely flabbergasted. Logan didn't hate my dad? After everything my dad had done to Logan, he didn't hate my dad. Logan's heart was too big for his own good. How did I get so lucky to have found Logan? How did I get so lucky as to end up with Logan?

Then, I remembered my father's threatening words. _"It would be a shame if something were to happen to your precious Logan." "Just remember that anything that happens to Logan is on your hands."_ The fear and sheer panic dug its nails into me, and I began to cry anew. I buried my face into Logan's chest, and sobbed. That was something else I couldn't bring myself to tell him.

A stray strand of hair fell over my eyes. Logan gently grabbed it and tucked it behind my ear. He pressed the palm of his hand against my cheek, and caressed my face with his thumb. I placed my hand over his, holding his hand to my face. When we touched, it sent exhilarating tingles up and down my spine.

We sat that way for what seemed like forever. Because he was lying in a hospital bed, and I was sitting in a chair beside his bed, the current position of our bodies was a bit awkward, and slightly uncomfortable, yet I had absolutely no desire to separate from Logan.

My tears had subsided. Occasionally, my body would be racked by a sob. When that happened, Logan just held me tighter.

Through all of this, Logan was great. He didn't push. He didn't ask questions that made me uncomfortable. He was my rock. He let me do the talking when I was ready. I couldn't be more grateful because this wasn't easy for me.

"There's going to be a custody battle over me. I just know it," I stated.

I could hear his heart thump against his chest. Or maybe that was my heartbeat that I heard. Actually, it sounded like our hearts were beating perfectly in unison because there was only one tempo that I could make out.

"Do you know what you're going to do?" Logan asked me.

"I want to live with my mom," I answered.

That part was easy. There was no doubt about that. After everything my father had pulled, it was like I didn't even recognize him anymore. At one point in time, he was my best friend. I looked up to him. I idolized him. Now…well, now I had lost my best friend. I didn't feel the same. I didn't feel whole.

"How long is your mom in town for?" Logan inquired. I could detect sadness in his voice. I think I knew why too.

I sat up and put a hand on each of Logan's shoulders. I held his gaze in my own. It pained me to see the glaze in his eyes—he was on the brink of tears.

"Logan, listen, I'm not leaving you, okay? We tried that before, remember? It was rough—for _both_ of us. My mom kicked my dad out and is staying with me at The Palm Woods," I said.

His eyes immediately lit up, and he had the most ridiculous lopsided grin on his face. I couldn't help but chuckle.

There was something about this moment that just felt…right. We locked eyes with one another. I leaned in closer, and was surprised that he leaned in as well. Usually, I was the one kissing him. Logan had never kissed me before, but I had a feeling that was all about to change. Our noses grazed. I could feel his warm breath on my face. I saw his lips pucker, and his eyes partly close. I couldn't believe this was happening. I've always dreamt of this moment.

"Excuse me, Logan," a voice said, interrupting us.

We immediately sprang apart. I glared daggers at the intruder, and saw that it was Mr. Smith, Logan's public defender. When I turned back around, I saw Logan rubbing the back of his neck. His cheeks were beet red. He chuckled nervously. I suddenly felt self-conscious about what had almost happened, and I felt my cheeks heat up as well. I tried to use my hair as a veil to prevent Logan from seeing.

"The hospital is releasing you today. Your discharge papers have already been signed. I'm here to take you back to the juvenile detention center," Mr. Smith announced.

He set a change of clothes on Logan's hospital bed; it was an orange jump suit, standard prison garb. I felt my whole body start to shake uncontrollably. No, no, no. This wasn't happening! How could this be happening? I just…Logan just…why? Why now?

Logan tenderly, but firmly grabbed me by the shoulders.

"Camille, look at me. It'll be okay. I'll be fine," Logan said.

I wasn't convinced; far from it. My breathing started to rapidly accelerate. Tears flooded out of my eyes in torrents, compromising my vision. I was on the verge of hyperventilating.

"Camille, listen to me. Breathe. Inhale. Exhale," Logan instructed.

I did as he said. I could slowly start to feel myself calm down ever so slightly.

"There. Just like that," Logan commented.

"But…last time…hospital…you…fight…got hurt," I said through intermittent sobs.

This wasn't okay! This was anything but okay! How could Logan say that? He wouldn't be fine. I knew that. Everyone knew that but him. If he had all of his memory back, then he would know it as well. I was scared to death. Logan _would_ be hurt again. If not by someone at juvenile hall, then my dad would find some way to get to him. I couldn't stand seeing Logan get hurt again. I just got him back! I just saw him have a seizure! We just almost kissed! He would have kissed me if not for stupid Mr. Smith! That guy has the worst timing in the world!

"Camille, I'll be careful. Look, I know you'll be waiting for me. I'll come back to you. I'll _always_ come back to you. I promise. Now please don't make this any harder than it already is," Logan said, his voice breaking.

I flung myself at him, his frame wavering from my sudden forcefulness. I wrapped my arms around him in an embrace.

"No! I'm not letting you go! Not now! Not yet! Not ever! It's too soon! After everything that just happened…what about my parents' divorce? I need you! No, I'm not letting you go!" I screamed hysterically.

I had never cried so much in my entire life as I did at that moment. I was Logan's soul mate. I knew it. I've always known it ever since I saw him for the first time. That was why I was put on this planet. Logan was my reason for existing. He was the center of my universe. He was like my own personal sun. Without him, my universe would surely be swallowed by a black hole.

"Camille, you _have_ to let me go. I hate this as much as you do. Come on, I need to get changed. The sooner I get changed, the sooner I can get a bail hearing, and the sooner I can come back to you just like I promised I would," Logan said, his voice still shaky despite his blatant attempts at keeping it steady.

"No!" I exclaimed stubbornly. Tears continued to stream down my face. "This is stupid! All of this is stupid! You're not a threat to society! This is all my dad's fault! I hate him! I hate what he's done to you!"

With one hand, he ran his hand absentmindedly through my hair. With his other hand, he rubbed circles in my back. All the while, he was gently shushing me. My body shook with sobs, and because I was holding onto Logan, so did his.

"Camille, breathe. Inhale. Exhale. Just like before. Remember?" he asked.

I didn't trust my own voice to vocalize a response, so I merely bounced my head up and down harder than was probably necessary. I tried taking deep cleansing breaths just like Logan showed me.

My heart and my mind were pulling me in two entirely different directions. My mind was telling me that I had to let Logan go. However, my heart was telling me to hold on for dear life for as long as I could. My heart told me that they would have to pry Logan and me apart if they wanted to take him away from me.

"Camille, relax. I'll be fine," Logan stated.

That was easy for him to say. He didn't remember what happened to him the last time. The only thing he knew was that he got into a fight and that's because _we_ told him that's what happened. What if whoever beat Logan up the first time was still there waiting for him at the juvenile detention center? What if Logan had another seizure while he was there? How could he say it? How could he say he'll be fine? He didn't know that! I held him even closer to me yet.

Logan pulled away from me. I immediately longed to have him in my arms again. I instinctively reached out to him.

"Camille, will you do something for me?" Logan asked.

"For you, anything," I replied.

"Will you tell Kendall, James, and Carlos what happened? Tell them not to worry, and I'll be back before they know it."

Even though my heart sank, I nodded my head in affirmation. Here I thought his request would have something to do with me, and only me. He gave me one last hug. I just hoped it literally wasn't the last hug he'd ever give me.

To Be Continued…

**A/N: Um…yeah…I usually don't squeeze that much romance and angst into one chapter. There was so much of it that it knocked me on my bum. I feel strangely compelled to cue an "I've fallen, and I can't get up" joke. Yeah...so anyways, that's why usually my stories are romance/some other genre. Then, it ends up being more of the "some other genre." Posting two chapters in one night seriously threw a wrench into my review count. Lesson learned. I'm never doing that again. Well…never say never. Darn me and my indecisiveness! Don't mind me. I'm shutting up now. **


	20. Misunderstanding

**A/N: So there are two people you can thank/blame for this chapter: me because I have a sick, twisted, deranged, cruel, demented mind that defies my sweet but shy personality, and Miss Fenway for a seemingly harmless passing remark she made in a PM. Oh yeah, and I'm considering switching my pen name. I want to get your thoughts first. Should I switch it or leave it as is? I mean, granted, you'll still see "Big Time Disaster" and know it's me writing it, but yeah. I won't tell you the pen name I'm thinking of switching to because a) I'm not even sure it's available and b)I may have to tweak it to MAKE it available. **

**Disclaimer: Hmm…trying to think of something slightly sarcastic and witty here, but I got nothing, so I'll go with the generic…I don't own anything.**

**Big Time Disaster**

_Misunderstanding_

_James's POV_

As soon as we finished rehearsal at Rocque Records, we scrambled into the limo outside, and were on our way to the hospital to see Logan. Visiting hours would be over soon, so there wasn't much time left.

Rehearsal today went horribly. I did my best. I always did. However, Kendall and Carlos were somewhere else today during rehearsal. I bet I know what, or rather _who_ they were thinking about too. Logan.

Truthfully, I thought about Logan too. I could multi-task. Just because I was giving my all at rehearsal didn't mean Logan never crossed my mind. I wondered how he was doing. I wondered what he was doing. I wondered if anyone had stopped by to visit him today.

Then, I wondered about things of a different nature. I wondered about not so good things. I wondered if Logan had took a turn for the worse. I wondered if he had another seizure. I wondered if he was in any pain. I wondered if he thought we didn't care about him because we weren't there with him.

Riding in the limo, Kendall, Carlos, and I were antsy. None of us could sit still. We kept yelling at the limo driver to drive faster. When he hesitantly obliged, it still wasn't fast enough. We told him to go faster still. There came a point where he refused to go any faster no matter how much we protested.

They say a watched pot never boils. I don't know who 'they' are, but I think I understand the expression now. I kept grabbing Carlos's wrist, so that I could look at his watch to see what time it was. Twelve minutes. It took us twelve minutes to get to the hospital. Twelve agonizingly long minutes.

We didn't even wait for the vehicle to come to a complete stop before the three of us darted out of the limo in a mad rush to see the final member of our foursome. We opted not to take the elevator this time, and instead ran up two flights of stairs. If the elevator was anything like the limo ride was, it would take far too long.

Once we reached Room 307, we opened the door, and were stunned by what we saw. I even had to go outside and make sure we were in the right room because this couldn't be right, could it? How was this even possible? This made absolutely no sense!

There were no signs of any medical equipment in the room at all. Where was the heart monitor? Where were all the machines Logan was hooked up to? Where was the little IV stand thingy? You could tell I didn't want to be a doctor. I didn't even know what the stuff that was supposed to be here, but wasn't was even called.

The hospital bed had been made. Clean sheets adorned the top of the bed. There was the distinct smell of both lemon and pine in the room. It must have been cleaned fairly recently or someone had a Pine-Sol fetish.

However, there was one key thing that was missing from the hospital room. It had nothing to do with any machine or anything that had fabric on it. It wasn't some inanimate object. No, what was missing from the room was the reason for our rushing to the hospital, our best friend, Logan.

The world as I knew it crumbled down all around me. I sank to my knees. I curled my hands into fists, and pounded on the stupid Pine-Sol saturated floor repeatedly. Each blow was more powerful than the last. My eyes brimmed with tears, until a steady stream of salty-water leaked from the corners of my eyes, blurring my vision and making me pound on the floor even harder than before.

I was so overcome by grief that I almost didn't notice Carlos walk over to the hospital bed, _Logan's_ hospital bed. He gently touched the pillow that Logan's head used to rest on. Then, he buried his face in the pillow and screamed over and over again. Each scream felt like a dagger to the heart it was so heart-wrenching to hear such a horrifying sound resonate from one of my best friends. What was more horrifying was the reason Carlos was screaming, the reason there was now a pronounced puddle on Logan's pillow because of the tears that spilled from Carlos's eyes.

"Logan…can't be…_gone_. We saw him…just this morning…and…he…was…fine then," I said, my sentence fragmented by periodic, recurring sobs. I refused to use the word _dead_. Even though _dead_ and _gone_ meant the same thing when used this way. _Gone_ just sounded better. Somehow, _gone_ hurt less.

I looked over at Kendall, our unofficial leader, and found no comfort from the expression he wore. His mouth was agape. His eyes bugged out. He was jerking his head back and forth in sudden, violent movements like he had ticks or something. All the while, his gaze was fixated on one thing—Logan's hospital bed. He didn't blink. Maybe he thought if he stared hard enough, and long enough, Logan would just magically reappear in his hospital bed.

I tore my gaze away from Kendall. I tried to drown out the sound of Carlos's sobs as he continued to wail into Logan's pillow. I plugged my ears with my index fingers, and squeezed my eyes together tightly. It was all for nothing though. I could still hear Carlos. Oddly enough, it was like his sobs managed to get louder now that I was _trying_ to block them out.

Then, I noticed that either the ground was shaking or I was shaking. My tear-hampered plane of vision bounced up and down incessantly. Were we having an earthquake? It seemed to make sense. Everything else seemed to be bobbing up and down too.

I clutched my hand to my chest as a tortuous throb of pain seemed to start there, and then rapidly spread outwards like wildfire until it encompassed every organ, every tissue, every cell of my being. I cried out a blood-curdling scream of agony. It felt like I was a vampire and someone had just driven a wooden stake through my heart.

Kendall's voice, or at least what I _assumed_ was Kendall's voice—it sure didn't sound like the Kendall I had known for eleven years of my life—rang through like a beacon.

"Logie…" Kendall said glumly. Gone was the confidence Kendall once possessed. Gone was the conviction with which he once spoke. Gone was the fire that once burned brightly within our fearless leader. He wasn't fearless anymore. I wasn't even sure he was our leader anymore.

Kendall balled his right hand up into a fist, let out a feral, primal, rage-filled growl, and punched a hole through one of the walls of Room 307. Instantaneously, he pulled his fist out of the indentation in the wall, shook his injured hand, and tried to flex his fingers to alleviate some of the pain. He clenched his eyes together, and let out a hissing sound. Blood started to seep out of the torn flesh over his knuckles. It dribbled down the length of his hand, and dripped on the floor below him. It sounded like a leaky faucet. Drip, drip, drip…

I don't know how Carlos felt about Kendall doing some interior decorating in Room 307, but I was frightened. I had never seen Kendall like this. I had never seen him this upset before. I had never seen him this angry before. Not even during a hockey game, when his gloves would come off and he'd get in a fist fight with a member of the opposing team for checking Logan too hard into the boards, tripping Carlos with their hockey stick, or pie-facing me and then laughing about it.

This was all my fault. Kendall and Carlos didn't have their head in the game all day today during rehearsal. They would bump into each other during dance choreography. They would miss the entrances to their solos in the recording studio. They would space off when Gustavo was yelling at us. What if they knew? What if they somehow had a nagging feeling in the back of their mind that something was wrong, or soon would be? Why didn't I have that same feeling? Why did I convince Kendall and Carlos that we really couldn't afford to skip another day of rehearsal? Why did I put my singing career over my friends…_again_? You would think I would have learned my lesson by now. I had been down this road before. Back when I signed with Hawk Records because I was hurt that Kendall, Carlos, and Logan were holding open auditions for a new James, my replacement. Back then, it was out of anger and resentment that I decided to choose fame over my friends.

Why didn't I see this coming? Why didn't any of us see this coming? It wasn't fair! Logan was only sixteen years old! He had only just begun to live! There were still so many things he had yet to experience! What about his dreams? What about his goals and aspirations? He would never become a doctor like he had always wanted to do ever since he happened upon a toy stethoscope at pre-school. He would never become valedictorian and give his graduation speech to the entire senior class. He and Camille would never get married. They would never have kids together. Logan would never be a father. This was wrong! It was all so very wrong!

Camille. Did she know? Wasn't she supposed to visit him today? Did it happen while she was here? Or worse, did it happen when she wasn't? She'll be devastated. She'll be inconsolable. Who's going to tell her? How are we supposed to even tell her? What are we supposed to say? "Yeah, sorry Camille, but you'll have to find some other guy to obsess over. Logan's gone."

Wait a second. What if it happened while she was here? Why didn't she tell us? She knew all along, and she just kept it to herself? We had a right to know too! Logan was our best friend! He was our band mate! He was like a little brother to all of us! She could have called us. Even if we didn't pick up, she could have left a voicemail. She could have texted us. She could have sent us an e-mail. Or better yet, she could have came to us in person and told us.

It hurt. It hurt so bad. My breathing was ragged and labored. Each breath seemed harder to take than the last. I felt incredibly dizzy. I felt like I would pass out any moment now. I was extremely nauseous. I could feel the bile slowly creep its way up my esophagus until I retched. It looked like lumpy mashed potatoes dyed with orange food coloring. Its smell was rancid. Its foul odor alone almost made me repeat the process all over again. I plugged my nose, and turned my head away from the mess I had made on the floor.

"Make it stop! Make it stop! Make it _stop!_" Carlos cried out frantically.

I was horrified when I looked over and saw what he was doing. He had his eyes firmly pressed shut. He was taking his fingernails and literally raking them across his eyelids. I don't know what he was doing exactly, but my guess was he was trying to literally stop himself from crying. There were angry red marks on his eyelids from where he had scratched himself. Worse yet, there were droplets of blood oozing out of several different locations.

I made a beeline over to Carlos. I firmly grabbed hold of his wrists, and lowered his arms until they were at his sides. He fiercely struggled against me, but I was not about to stand by and watch one of my best friends make his eyes bleed. His attempts at struggling got more and more feeble the longer he squirmed. Eventually, his body was too exhausted to struggle anymore, and Carlos started sobbing uncontrollably. His tears mixed with the blood from his eyelids, forming a pinkish mixture that flowed down his tan cheeks.

I had no idea what on Earth to even begin to say to Carlos, if I was even capable of saying anything at all. I was at a loss for words. That wasn't a figure of speech either. My vocal chords were not cooperating with me at all. I wanted to say something to Carlos, to reassure him, to calm him, but I couldn't. I literally couldn't.

So instead, I cradled his head in my lap as he dampened my jeans with his tears. Through my own tear-clouded eyes, I looked over and saw that Kendall was holding his hand up in the air, and inspecting it. It was like he was realizing for the first time that his hand was bleeding. There was a reason that Kendall never wanted to be a doctor like Logan; Kendall couldn't stand the sight of blood. He found that out the hard way. One time, there was this blood drive at our high school back in Minnesota. Kendall went to donate some of his blood. Usually, it's needles that people are afraid of. Usually, they would look away when they would get shots, or in this case, have blood drawn. Kendall didn't though. When he saw the syringe quickly fill up with its crimson contents, when he felt his life force being sucked out of his veins, he fainted. He spent fourth through sixth period lying down in the nurse's office.

Kendall teetered. He was rapidly losing his balance. I would have rushed over to help steady him, but Carlos's head was on my lap, so I couldn't really move. As he was about to plummet face-first onto the floor, I reached out to him.

"I got you, son," Mrs. Knight said, catching Kendall.

She took in the sight around her—her son's bloodied hand, my vomit on the floor, Carlos's bloodied eyelids. She gasped, and covered her mouth with her hand.

"Oh my God! Are you boys okay? Hold on. Let me get a doctor," Mrs. Knight stated.

"Mom, where's Logan? What happened?" Kendall asked, his voice cracking.

"He had to go back to juvenile hall."

"You mean he's…_alive_?" Carlos asked, sitting up.

"Well, yeah."

I was ecstatic. We all were. We hugged the nearest people to us—Carlos and I hugged, and Kendall and his mom hugged…well, more like Kendall hugged his mother. Mrs. Knight didn't quite know what was going on.

_He's alive_. Never in my life had I heard two sweeter words.

To Be Continued…

**A/N: Um…yeah…that was really dark…sorry. If you're not emotionally scarred for life after reading this, um…review? **


	21. Psychological Warfare

**A/N: Oh my goodness! The season premiere of BTR was SO good! I missed being able to watch a new episode every week. I loved how Camille found Logan and tackled him. I love crazy, stressed Logan. "Write C-A-R-L-O-S here!" I guess that's what 19 high energy sports drinks does to you…I loved how Jo showed up at Rocktober Fest, turned around her sign, and it said, "I 3 Kendall." The Jett dude was creepy. His acting voice was the same as his normal voice. It's like the guy over-acts. Haha, and did you see all the Logan signs in the crowd at Rocktober Fest? I seriously think out of all the guys, he had the most signs. Oh, and the autographed pig! "Wait one second. Wait," while Logan was trying to finish autographing the pig that was running away. Oh, and I changed my pen name and finally have an avatar, but I'm sure you've noticed that.**

**Disclaimer: I still don't own Big Time Rush. I even threw a lucky penny down a wishing well too…**

**Big Time Disaster**

_Psychological Warfare_

_Logan's POV_

I found myself in the mess hall at the juvenile detention center. I was getting my food. I cringed when the blob of food was dished onto my tray. I wasn't even sure what it was. It was mushy looking. It had a gray color to it. I also got a dinner roll. The thing was rock solid though. It would probably serve a better function as a hammer.

"You're back," someone said to me.

I noticed a short, nerdy looking kid was behind me in the lunch line. He had short red hair that was parted down the middle. His face was speckled with freckles. He wore glasses with thick lenses. He was shorter than me, and scrawnier than me too.

"I'm Dennis," he said, holding out his hand for me to shake.

I shook his hand. "I'm—" I started to say before he interrupted me.

"Logan, I know. You're like a legend around here," Dennis stated.

I raised my eyebrows. That's funny. If I didn't know any better, I could've sworn I heard Dennis say that I was some sort of legend. That couldn't be right, could it? Me, a legend? The statistical probability of that is infinitesimally minimal.

"Come again?" I asked.

"You're the only guy who has ever stood up to Sid, and fought back. A lot of the inmates here respect you," Dennis explained.

A plastic cup with my seizure medication, Dilantin, in it was placed on my tray. I took this once a day with meals. There was no telling if I would ever have another seizure or not, but I took the medicine regardless because it was better to be safe than sorry.

"Uh-oh. Gotta go," Dennis said, before he scurried off.

I looked over and saw Sid and a bunch of his friends make their way over to me. I could feel the hairs on my arm stand up on end. I don't exactly remember what happened, but I did know that I got into a fight, and my guess was that Sid was the one I fought with. As Sid strolled his way over to me, I couldn't help but notice that I was not getting a friendly vibe from him at all. This probably wasn't going to end well for me.

"Well, well, well. Look who we have here. This should be fun," Sid remarked, grinning evilly at me.

It was when Sid and his friends had surrounded me that I started to remember things. It was like déjà vu. I remembered every punch, every kick. It was like I was reliving the experience all over again. I even recalled Sid peeing on me, and the humiliation that resulted from that.

"Look, I don't want any trouble here. We just got off on the wrong foot. That's all. I'm sure if we talk about this in a civilized manner, there's no need for violence," I reasoned.

"How's this for civilized?" Sid commented, knocking my tray upwards.

The gray gunk got all over my face. I could hear the rock hard dinner roll thud on the floor. My seizure medication rolled on the floor for a little bit, and then it fell into a vent on the floor. I got on my knees and tried to see if I could see it in the vent, but it was gone.

As I wiped the gunk off my face with the sleeve of my orange jump suit, I heard Sid say, "What do you say boys? Should we remind Logan here who's top dog?"

A chill traveled up and down my spine. I turned around in a circle nervously to gauge whether I was in any immediate danger.

"Wait," I said, holding my hands in front of me, palms out. "Why are you letting him boss you around like this? He's not the boss of you! Nobody is!"

My last chance—my only chance—was if I could somehow get Sid's friends to turn on him. I wasn't a fighter, but I didn't need to be. Sometimes, it wasn't brawn that won a fight; sometimes, it was brains.

I looked around me and noticed Sid's friends look at each other. It looked as though they were seriously considering listening to what I was saying to them. Sid noticed this too, and started to grow concerned.

"Don't listen to him! Don't let him get inside of your heads! Don't you see what he's trying to do? He's trying to get you to turn on me! Don't let him succeed! Now come on! Let's get him!" Sid ordered.

Sid was completely beside himself when he came to the realization that his so-called friends weren't budging one inch. Some of them even folded their arms across their chest in defiance. I couldn't believe it; my plan actually looked like it was going to work. To think, I usually don't have a plan because I usually panic under pressure.

"Fine! I don't need you! I don't need any of you! I'll get him myself," Sid said.

He rushed at me, right hand clenched in a fist. I squeezed my eyes shut, and braced myself for impact, but to my surprise, it never came. I cautiously opened my right eye first, then my left. I saw that one of Sid's _former_ friends stood protectively in front of me. He had caught Sid's fist in his hand.

"What are you doing? This is mutiny!" Sid exclaimed.

I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw that the circle that had formed around me, trapping me within its boundaries, had moved. Now it was Sid that was surrounded. I was trying to figure out how this was even possible. How could Sid's friends turn on him? I mean don't get me wrong, I'm grateful that they did, because that meant my hide was saved. Then, I remembered something Dennis had said to me. _A lot of the inmates here respect you_.

It defied all logic. Sid's _former_ friends, who last time I was here, helped beat me up, were now aligning themselves with me. I wasn't sure what had done the trick. Was it that they respected me? Was it what I had said to them about Sid not being the boss of them? Was it a combination of both of them? Or was there something entirely different that drove them to turn their backs on Sid?

It kind of reminded me of how Jo, Stephanie, and Kendall turned on Camille on the drop of a dime. If this taught me anything, it was that friendship wasn't something you should take for granted. In the blink of an eye, it could all be gone.

Sid's former friends converged on him like a falcon swoops down on its prey. It was eerie watching them fight. They had a wolf pack mentality. It was like a car crash. Because it might be gruesome and graphic, you probably should look away, yet you can't stop yourself from looking anyways.

With his free hand, Sid punched the guy who had his other fist trapped. As soon as Sid freed himself though, he found himself flat on his back, looking up at the ceiling. Four guys held each of his limbs while a fifth guy sat on top of Sid's chest and connected with repeated lefts and rights to the face.

I was conflicted as I witnessed what was unfolding before my very eyes. My self-preservation instinct told me to stay out of this; better Sid than me. However, the part of me that knew all too well what it was like to be on the receiving end of a beating wanted to do something to help Sid somehow. Maybe I could get the other guys to call off their attack.

However, as it turned out, _I_ didn't need to do anything. An alarm blared, and red lights flashed. The next thing I knew, several prison guards sped into the mess hall, brandishing night sticks. It was odd. I know I didn't entirely have my memory back yet, but I don't recall an alarm going off when I was the one getting beat up.

I was repulsed by how meticulous, methodical, savage, cold, and calculating each blow by the prison guards was. Each blow was designed to do one of two things: cripple the recipient, or render the recipient unconscious. Some of the inmates were hit in their joints—the elbow, the shoulder, the front of the knee, the back of the knee, the ankle, the hip. Others were hit across the forehead or in the back of the skull.

In no time at all, the uprising was squashed. It wasn't even a fair fight. Sid's _former_ friends were easily outnumbered for one. Secondly, the prison guards were armed with weapons, night sticks. My stomach churned as realization began to sink in; I was responsible. Because of me, so many people got hurt that didn't need to get hurt. If I hadn't got Sid's _former_ friends to turn on him, none of this would have happened. I had a guilty conscience. While I hadn't done anything _directly_ to the inmates, I might as well have had a night stick in my hand too.

I watched in horror as one of the prison guards offered a prone Sid his hand, and then pulled him up to his feet. Wait a second. Was that why the alarms went off and there were flashing red lights? What was going on here? Were the prison guards _protecting_ Sid? Why? What for? It didn't make any sense.

"Come on Sid, let's get you to the medical wing to get you checked out," the same prison guard said.

It didn't really surprise me that the prison guards left the other inmates lying on the ground broken and unconscious. Nobody offered to take _them_ to the medical wing. I saw Sid turn back and look at me while he was walking away. There were evil intentions in his cold, sinister, soulless eyes. My breath hitched in my throat, and a chill traversed my spine.

"Mitchell, you have a visitor!" another prison guard shouted, causing me to jump.

Frankly, I was so used to being called by my first name that I almost didn't respond to being called by my last name. I was practically giddy with excitement as my mind raced thinking of the possible identity of my visitor. Now, the prison guard said visitor, singular. That means it's only one person, but whom? Katie? Mrs. Knight? My mom? My dad? Jo? Stephanie? James? Kendall? Carlos? Camille?

I kind of felt stupid for considering my parents as possible visitors. I mean as much as I wished they would visit me here, I kind of didn't _want_ them to only because I didn't want them to find out about my getting arrested. This was the first time I had ever broken the law. It sounds weird, and probably doesn't even make sense, but maybe it's a good thing. Maybe it takes something like breaking the law for them to pay attention, for them to actually care.

As soon as I stepped one foot outside of the mess hall, I was back in handcuffs. It was standard protocol here at juvenile hall. The only time we got to take our handcuffs off was when we were in the mess hall or when we were in our cells. The prison guard grabbed me by the arm a bit too roughly and ushered me to the visitation room.

My heart sank, and a frown crossed my face when I saw who my visitor was; it was Mr. Smith. He was seated at one of the tables. His briefcase was on the table, and he was rummaging through its contents when I walked into the visitation room. The prison guard helped me into the chair across from Mr. Smith, before going to stand by the door.

"So Logan, I've got good news and bad news. Which do you want to hear first?" Mr. Smith asked me.

"The bad news," I answered. Might as well get this out of the way first.

"The bad news is that your bail hearing isn't for another three days."

Three days? I had to stay in this infernal place for three more days? 72 hours? 4,320 minutes? 259,200 seconds? I hadn't even been back for one day, and I already couldn't wait to get out this place. I somehow managed to make it through today in one piece, but there was no telling what could happen the next three days.

"What's the good news?" I asked. Whatever it was, no matter how good of news it was, it wasn't enough to outweigh the bad news. I was sure of it.

"The good news is that you got a bail hearing. It would have worked better if you asked for the good news first," Mr. Smith commented.

I rolled my eyes. The sensible thing to do is precisely what I had done; ask for the bad news first. Why on Earth would you ask for the good news _then_ the bad news? You want to end on a positive note not a negative note. Unless, of course, the good news sucked as much as mine did; then you end up on a negative note regardless.

Mr. Smith thumbed through my case file as he spoke to me.

"You have no priors, which is good. Your bail, if you are awarded bail, will be lower than if you had any priors. Plus, having no priors helps when it comes to what other consequences you may face," Mr. Smith said.

"Other consequences?" I asked.

Wasn't being in here consequence enough? I had people in here who wanted to beat me up. The food was terrible. I was completely isolated from everyone I cared about. What could be worse than that?

"In addition to your bail, there could be a fine, community service, or house arrest. Well actually, any of these things could happen. None of these things could happen. Or all of these things could happen. You need to be prepared for anything," Mr. Smith explained.

After my oh-so uplifting visit with my public defender, a prison guard took me to my cell. This will be the first night I spend at juvenile hall. The first of hopefully only three nights that I'll spend here. The prison guard opened my cell door before undoing my handcuffs. I tried to take advantage of my newfound freedom, and tried to shove past the prison guard and make my escape, but he shoved me backwards. Then, he quickly slammed the cell door shut and locked it. I walked over to the cell door, gripped the iron bars with both of my hands.

"Let me out!" I shouted.

"Hello roomie," a familiar voice greeted.

I knew who that voice belonged to—Sid. Could this day get any worse?

To Be Continued…

**A/N: So hopefully there were some surprises in this chapter, and it wasn't exactly what you thought it would be. I like to throw my readers curve balls. Curve balls are fun. I mentioned Miss Fenway in the last chapter, and it just so happens that she's my fan fiction fiancée. Yes, that means I'm a dude. We're getting married on October 8****th****, the same night as the premiere of a new BTR episode, 'Big Time Girlfriends.' We'll be serving fish sticks too. **


	22. Catch Me If You Can

**A/N: If my dream job of becoming a singer ever becomes a reality, I hope the guys of Big Time Rush are as big of fans of me as I am of them. Ooh, and then maybe we can collaborate on a song! That would be cool! Yeah, yeah. I know. I'm a dreamer. So sue me. That was just an expression…*chuckles nervously* Please don't sue!**

**Disclaimer: As long as Season 2 of Big Time Rush is as good as "Welcome Back Big Time" was, I suppose I'll let Nickelodeon own the show. If the quality takes a nose dive, look out Nickelodeon.**

**Big Time Disaster**

_Catch Me If You Can_

_Sid's POV_

"Let me out!" Logan shouted a second time, this time more frantic than the first.

I thoroughly enjoyed this. I took great pleasure in seeing Logan squirm like the cockroach he is. Cockroaches are tough little buggers to kill, but eventually they get squashed just like any other insect. I could hear the desperation in his voice. I could see the fear in his eyes. He was afraid of me. He had every right to be afraid of me. I was his roommate. I was the last person he wanted as a roommate. However, I couldn't have asked for a better roommate.

"Poor little Logan. There's no one here to protect you now," I remarked, pacing back and forth in front of him.

He didn't dare take his eyes off of me. I was like a venomous viper coiled to spring. My prey had no idea when the strike would come. When it did though, it would be with deadly precision. The attack was imminent. It would just come when he least expected it.

"Sid, I know you're probably mad at me, but you don't have to do this," Logan pleaded.

"I'm not mad. I don't get mad. I get even," I replied.

He took a step backwards, away from me. His back was pressed firmly against the iron bars of our cell door. There was nowhere left for him to go. He was trapped, and he knew it. I closed in on him some more. Now only a few feet separated the two of us.

"You just think you're so clever, don't you? Turning my friends against me like you did. Word has it that you're a bit of a legend around here. Well, you can call me a legend killer," I commented.

"Hey, I didn't force them to beat you up. They did that all on their own. I just wanted them to not beat me up. I was just saving myself," Logan said.

I didn't care if he forced them to beat me up or not. The fact of the matter was that he turned them against me. That was his doing. He may have dodged a bullet, but there was plenty more ammo where that came from. Ever since I first met Logan, he's been a constant thorn in my side. Well, no longer. That ends today. That ends now.

I pulled my fist back and aimed at his head. At the last split second, he somehow managed to get out of the way. I ended up punching the iron bars on the cell door. A ringing sound echoed throughout the hallways as my knuckles collided with the metal. I hissed in pain through clenched teeth. I shook my injured fist, trying to get some circulation back in it.

Since Logan was so much smaller than me, I knew that he would be quicker than me. Frankly, that was his only chance—his speed. If I got my hands on him, no _when_ I get my hands on him, it will be game over for him. I guarantee it.

"Aren't you curious as to why the prison guards protect me?" I asked.

"Why's that?" Logan responded.

"It's simple. My dad's the warden here. Ever since you showed up, he's been getting a lot of calls from a Mr. Sanders. I guess the two of them go way back."

It looked as though Logan had just seen a ghost. His mouth was in a perfect 'o' shape. His eyes were widened. He was frozen in his tracks. I had no idea who this Mr. Sanders guy was, aside from being a friend of my dad, but based on Logan's reaction, he knew _exactly_ who this Mr. Sanders was.

"You may have the other inmates on your side, but I have the prison guards on my side. Plus, my dad's the warden. Face it. You can't win," I remarked. "Besides, they can't help you now. No one can."

I tried hitting Logan again, this time with a body shot. I was careful not to make my attack too obvious. Nevertheless, he somehow managed to evade me once more. I was quickly starting to grow frustrated. The more frustrated I got, the more dangerous I became.

This time, I went for a one-two punch—left jab followed by a right hook. I noticed too late that Logan had bent over backwards in a bridge. He kicked me twice underneath the jaw—once with each foot—before standing upright again. I staggered backwards a couple of paces, and wiped some blood from my lip with the back of my hand; the kicks had caused me to bite my lip.

Logan had no idea what a huge mistake he had made. Now he was really in for it. When you are in a fight, and you see your own blood, it lights a fire under you. It's bad news for your opponent because you become angrier and more dangerous than you were before you were bloodied.

I charged towards him. He tried to meet me with a kick, but I caught his foot. I threw it backwards with a tremendous amount of force. To my surprise, he merely did a back flip, and remained unfazed. Okay, now I was really starting to get annoyed. He was now super quick and super agile. I looked over at him and saw that he still had a worried look on his face, and rightfully so, but there was also a hint of smugness—I hadn't been able to hit him yet.

I growled in frustration, and tried a different tactic. I attempted to kick his knee out from underneath him. _Attempted_ being the key word. Once again, he managed to dodge my attack, this time by doing a no-handed cartwheel.

I threw a flurry of punches in his direction. He skillfully dodged attack after attack, much to my dismay. I kept getting angrier. Every punch had more force behind it than the last. The result was still the same though—he kept evading me.

Why was it so hard to hit him? I don't remember it being this hard last time. Of course, last time, I had help. Last time, Logan was outnumbered. This time, it was one-on-one. I started to realize that Logan was a worthier adversary than I originally gave him credit for. He was quicker than me. He was more agile than me. He had better endurance than me. I was starting to get winded, and he hadn't even begun to break a sweat.

"Stay still, and take your beating like a man!" I screamed.

I put my hands on my knees, and was hunched over, trying to catch my breath. I didn't expect him to just stand there and let me beat him up, but it was worth a shot. Besides, if nothing else, it was just to let him know how frustrated I was with him.

I didn't understand it. Why did my dad insist on me beating Logan up? Did that Mr. Sanders guy have anything to do with it? Was he the one calling the shots? If so, what was his beef with Logan? I had been getting in fights for as long as I can remember. That's how I ended up here. With my dad being the warden though, I was protected here. Out there, I had no such protection. I had made a reputation of beating people up and putting people in hospitals.

That's why I was so annoyed that I hadn't been able to even get one hit in on Logan. I had tons of experience fighting. I'm not sure about him, but he doesn't strike me as the fighting type. I was getting so fed up that I was just about ready to tell my dad to forget about it. If he wants Logan to get beat up, do it himself. I would actually laugh if he couldn't get a hit in on Logan either.

"Is there a problem, son?" my dad asked.

Speak of the devil. I looked behind me, and saw my dad unlock the cell door, and join me, shutting and locking the door behind him. Oh great! Just my luck he was probably making his rounds when he saw a perfectly healthy Logan in the cell with me.

"No. There's no problem at all," I said, looking down at the ground.

My dad was taller, heavier, and stronger than me. He was nearly seven feet tall. He weighed three hundred thirty pounds. He taught me how to fight, but he was always better than me though. My dad was a scary guy. He was bald. He had a black goatee. He had a total of thirty-two tattoos.

"Then how come you haven't finished your job yet?" he asked. Though I didn't dare look him in the eyes, I could feel him glaring at me.

"If you think you could do a better job, then by all means, be my guest," I said.

He stalked his way over to me, and backhand slapped me. I wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth, and resumed staring at the floor.

"Very well. Pay attention. I'll show you how it's done," my dad ordered, pulling out a night stick.

I can't believe I'm saying this, but a part of me was actually rooting for Logan. I would love nothing more but to see my dad humiliated by Logan, much like I was. I couldn't help but think that this wasn't a fair fight though. I mean my dad had a weapon and Logan didn't. Wait a second. When did I care whether or not a fight was fair?

"What is this?" Logan asked, backing up a few steps.

I watched the fight between my roommate and my father intently.

My dad ran towards Logan, and swung his night stick. Logan somersaulted out of the way. He was in a crouched position not too far from where I was. I could probably easily reach out and get a few shots in on him myself, but I was interested in seeing how this would play out, so I merely stood there.

"You're fast kid. I'll give you that," my dad commented.

For every step my father took towards Logan, Logan took one step backwards. I quickly saw what my dad was trying to do. He was slowly backing Logan up into a corner. He was trying to trap him. When Logan realized this, he would try to run past my dad, but my dad kept cutting him off at the pass.

"I got you now," my father said, with an evil smirk on his face.

He swung at Logan's head, but Logan slid through my dad's legs. The only thing my dad hit with the night stick was the wall. He pounded his fist on the wall in frustration. I couldn't help but grin. So much for my dad showing me how it's done.

"You were saying," slipped out of my mouth.

"Shut up! Make yourself useful, and grab him," my dad commanded.

"I thought you got this?"

"Don't make me repeat myself!"

As I went to grab Logan, I noticed him keel over. Then, his limbs started thrashing about wildly. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, and he began foaming at the mouth. I had never seen anything like this before. It scared even me. I found myself backing up a few steps.

"Dad, what's wrong with him?" I asked, panicking. I didn't touch him. This wasn't my fault! I didn't know why he was doing this, but it wasn't because of me!

I looked over at my dad, and saw he wore a similar shocked expression as me. Based on his reaction, this was his first time seeing something like this too.

"I don't know," he answered.

"What do we do?" I asked.

"You're asking me?"

Then I remembered something. Earlier in the mess hall, I had knocked Logan's tray over. There was a tiny plastic cup with a pill in it. Was that what caused him to act like this? Was it because he didn't take his medicine? Was this really my fault after all? It's just one pill. I didn't think it was a big deal. I didn't know _this_ would happen if he didn't take it.

"His medicine," I said out loud.

"What?" my dad asked, arching his eyebrows in confusion.

"Earlier, I knocked over his medicine. It fell into a vent on the floor."

My dad grabbed two handfuls of my jump suit, and slammed me against the wall. I felt the air being driven out of my lungs. He got right in my face and towered over me.

"You idiot!" he shouted. "Can't you do anything right?"

"I didn't know! Besides, weren't you just about to beat him up? What's the difference?" I retorted.

He slammed me against the wall a second time. Once again, the wind was knocked out of me. I could already feel a welt starting to form on the back of my head.

"What's the difference? Inmates getting beat up is no big thing. It happens all the time. Inmates dying make this center look bad. It makes _me_ look bad. I could lose my job! For your sake, you better hope that doesn't happen!" he yelled.

I happened to look over and saw that Logan had stopped convulsing. He now lay perfectly still. There was a pool of drool underneath him. I was relieved when I saw his chest rise and fall. He wasn't dead. My dad wouldn't lose his job over this, and he wouldn't kill me over this…I hoped.

My dad walked over to Logan, crouching down beside him. He scooped him up in his arms, and headed for the cell door. He pulled out the key while still holding onto Logan with one arm. He unlocked the cell door, and swung it open.

"Wait. Where are you going?" I asked.

"I'm taking him to the hospital just to make sure he's okay," my dad said, before shutting and locking the prison cell.

To Be Continued…

**A/N: Ugh! I HATE writing fight scenes. I hope it didn't suck too badly. I hope this chapter answered some of the questions you had. Thank you everyone for all of your support!**


	23. The Last Straw

**A/N: Woohoo! New episode of Big Time Rush Friday! I hope it's as good as "Welcome Back Big Time" was. I think it's awesome how to some reviewers, I'm starting to become Public Enemy Number One. Ha! And I'm just the writer! How did that happen? No, wait. Don't answer that.**

**Disclaimer: The only way I'm affiliated with Nickelodeon is that I watch some of their shows. Like Big Time Rush for example. Other than that, I'm not affiliated with Nickelodeon, and besides, that doesn't really even count as being affiliated with Nickelodeon, does it? Anyways, I think you get where I'm going with this. If not, let me just go in the corner and hang my head in shame.**

**Big Time Disaster**

_The Last Straw_

_Camille's POV_

I went back to my apartment at The Palm Woods. I had made it up to my floor, and turned the corner just in time to see my father come out of my apartment. He had a box of his belongings in his arms. I think I stopped breathing for a second because I was so startled to see him. He was the last person I wanted to see.

"Hey Camille. We should talk," he said.

"Funny. I have nothing to say to you," I replied, trying to sound braver than I felt.

I noticed that my words stung him, and that made me glad. They should sting. After everything he has pulled, he has yet to show any remorse. He has yet to show any regrets. I didn't understand how someone could be so heartless.

"Honey, I hate what's happened to us. You can deny it all you want, but deep down, I know that you hate it too," my dad stated.

"Actually, no. The only thing I hate right now is _you_," I remarked, putting extra emphasis on the word 'you.'

I did not need this right now. I just said a tearful goodbye to Logan earlier in the day. I was not in the mood to fight with my dad yet again. However, my dad being the stubborn jerk he is, wouldn't leave me alone.

My father let out a frustrated groan before throwing the cardboard box of his belongings aside. A loud crash echoed through the halls as its contents spilled out onto the floor. I should have known this was coming, yet I was still startled. He angrily made his way over to me, coming to a stop a few feet in front of me. His nostrils flared, his face was starting to turn red, and I could see a vein pulsate rapidly on his neck.

"That does it! I've tried being nice to you. I've tried being reasonable with you. Look what that got me! A whole lot of nothing. So here's what's going to happen now. I'm filing for full custody of you, and when we go to court you are going to testify…on my behalf. You will tell the judge that you want to live with me instead of your mom," my dad explained.

I scoffed. Was he crazy? What would ever possess me to do that?

"If I refuse?" I asked.

"Oh, you won't refuse. You see, I can make life _really_ difficult for your boyfriend. It doesn't matter where he is, I can still get to him. If he's in juvie, I can get to him. If he's in the hospital, I can get to him. If he's here at The Palm Woods, I can get to him. So you have a decision to make Camille. How much do you love Logan? Do you love him enough to testify against your mother? Or do you hate me so much that it's going to get your boyfriend hurt or maybe even killed?" my dad inquired.

Tears started to fall from my eyes. I was at such a loss regarding what to do, that my entire body was shaking. No matter what I chose, no matter what decision I made, I would lose. Why was this happening? This wasn't fair! How could my dad hate Logan so much? I mean I knew he didn't approve of him, but this was getting way out of hand.

"Is there a problem here?" James asked.

I noticed Kendall, James, and Carlos stand beside me. I didn't know where they came from or why they were here right now, but I couldn't be any more grateful. I didn't want to choose between Logan and my mother. Why couldn't I have them both? Why did it have to be one or the other?

"Nope. I was just leaving. We'll finish this talk later, Camille," my dad said.

He then turned around and gathered up his things, before walking past the four of us and leaving, much to my relief. James and Carlos didn't take their eyes off of my father until he was completely out of sight. Kendall had his arms folded across his chest, and I got the impression that coming to my aid wasn't his idea.

"Thanks," I said, giving them a pathetic excuse for a smile that unfortunately was the best I could manage given the circumstances.

James and Carlos were on either side of me, and they both turned to face me. That's when I noticed the little bandages on Carlos' eyelids. I looked over and saw that Kendall's hand was bandaged up as well. I wondered what that was all about.

"Are you okay?" James asked.

"Have you been crying?" Carlos questioned.

I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. I don't know why though. They had already seen that I was crying. There were things that the three of them didn't know. They had a right to know too. Telling them wouldn't be easy though. Then again, nowadays, nothing was easy anymore.

"Okay, I can't do this anymore!" Kendall exclaimed, before shoving past Carlos to stand in front of me.

Looking into his green eyes, I could see the disdain. Even his body language spoke volumes. His body was tense and rigid. He was leaning away from me almost as if he didn't want to get too close to me or something. His right eye kept twitching.

"How could you not tell us that Logan had to go back to juvenile hall? Instead you let us believe that he was actually…_dead_," Kendall said furiously.

I felt a stab of guilt upon hearing Kendall's words. The three of them had actually thought that Logan had passed away. Looking back, I probably should have told them. It's just I was so distraught because I just finished parting with Logan. I wasn't exactly thinking clearly.

"Let's get something perfectly clear. You're not the only one who cares about Logan, Camille! So if you think your keeping information from us somehow means you care about him more, you are sadly mistaken!" Kendall yelled.

I experienced another stab of guilt when Kendall talked about me keeping information from them. He had no idea how true that really was. As much as I didn't appreciate Kendall yelling at me, for once I couldn't really blame him for being mad at me. If roles were reversed, I'd be pretty ticked off too.

"Kendall, I'm sorry," I said genuinely.

I noticed that after he had said his piece, he wouldn't even look me in the eyes anymore. He didn't even seem to acknowledge that I had even spoken to him.

"Save your apology for someone who actually cares!" Kendall commented.

"Kendall, I really am sorry. I can't imagine what it would feel like to be under the impression that Logan had died," I said.

"No, you can't!"

Kendall left the three of us, and leaned against the wall a good distance away. He stood there and brooded. I couldn't help but think that Kendall and I would never repair our broken friendship. He wasn't entirely to blame though. I've been pretty horrible myself.

"Don't worry about him. He'll come around," Carlos said, giving me a warm smile.

Personally, I thought that was highly unlikely, but I appreciated Carlos's optimism, and attempt to cheer me up.

"Hey Camille, what did we walk in on earlier with you and your dad?" James asked.

I sighed. That's right. They didn't even know about my parents getting a divorce. They didn't know that my father was trying to blackmail me into testify against my mother in court. They didn't know about the axe my father was holding over my head.

"It's nothing," I lied.

"It didn't look like nothing," Carlos commented.

I didn't want to lie to them, but it just hurt to talk about my parents getting a divorce. How do I tell them that Logan could get hurt just because I didn't give into my father's demands?

"Camille, trust us. Maybe we can help," James said.

I felt like such a horrible person. It may be too late for me to repair my friendship with Kendall, but I had James and Carlos reaching out to me. I wouldn't even meet them halfway. I don't know why I was pushing them away. Other than my mom and Logan, they're all I had left.

"My parents are getting a divorce," I stated, my eyes brimming with tears.

"That sucks," Carlos commented.

"I'm so sorry," James remarked.

For a split second, I thought I saw a look of sympathy cross Kendall's face even though he was standing so far away. However, when he realized I was looking at him, it quickly vanished, and was replaced by a scowl.

I took a deep breath. Here goes nothing.

"That's not even the half of it. My dad said if I didn't tell the judge that I want to live with him, he's going to make life really difficult for Logan," I elaborated.

I felt so much better now that I had told someone else. It was like I could finally breathe again. James and Carlos exchanged worried looks with one another.

"How can he do that? Logan's in juvie," Carlos said.

"My dad has a lot of connections. There are a bunch of people who owe him favors," I replied.

"So basically, no place is safe for Logan?" James asked.

I gave an affirmative nod. Kendall had been listening in on our conversation, and decided he would join in on the conversation now. He stormed his way over to us, throwing his hands up in the air in frustration.

"See? All of this _is_ your fault!" Kendall exclaimed.

"No, this is my dad's fault!" I retorted.

"Yeah, _your _dad's fault! If he wasn't your dad, this wouldn't be happening!"

James stepped in between the two of us.

"Guys seriously, stop fighting!" James demanded.

"You know, I have had it up to here with you!" I shouted, holding my hand as high as my forehead.

"Well, I can say the same thing about you!" Kendall quipped.

Carlos looked like he wanted to jump in and intervene, but something was holding him back. I just wasn't sure what that something was.

"You don't think I'm right for Logan. Big freaking deal! News flash: It doesn't matter what you think! All that matters is how Logan and I feel about one another!" I exclaimed.

"Are you serious? You are such a hypocrite, Camille! I seem to recall you breaking up with Logan because your daddy didn't approve. Now you're telling me that the only thing that matters is how you and Logan feel about one another? Are you even hearing yourself?" Kendall remarked.

"Just because you're the leader of your group doesn't mean you're always right, Kendall! Not everything is about you and what you want, and what you think is best!"

"This coming from The Palm Woods biggest drama queen! Hey everyone, I'm Camille! Look at me. I'm the only one with problems. My parents are getting a divorce. Boo freaking hoo!"

I pulled my hand back and slapped Kendall hard across the cheek. I slapped him so hard that both James and Carlos were massaging their cheeks as well. My parents' divorce was no laughing matter. I couldn't believe Kendall would make a mockery out of it. I couldn't believe he would stoop so low. Honestly, I'm not sure I _want_ to repair my friendship with Kendall anymore. I'm not so sure I wanted to have anything to do with him anymore.

"I've tried apologizing to you. I've tried being nice to you. I've tried being civil to you. The only reason I've done those things was for Logan's sake. Because you're one of his best friends. Well, no more. I can't believe I ever wanted to make things right with you! I'm done. I've washed my hands of you. You can hate me all you want, but I'm not going anywhere, so you better get used to it," I remarked.

"Hit me again! Come on, Camille! Slap me! See what happens!" Kendall challenged.

"Kendall, dude, calm down," Carlos begged, grabbing hold of Kendall's arm.

"Get off me, Carlos!"

I let out a horrified gasp when I saw Kendall shove Carlos backwards into the wall with such force that his body slumped to the floor.

James stepped in between me and Kendall.

"Kendall, come on. You're not seriously going to hit a girl, are you?" James asked.

"Butt out, James!" Kendall responded, leveling James with a punch to the face.

I felt myself back away from Kendall. I had no idea where this was coming from. I had never seen him act this way before. It's like I had awakened some beast that used to lay dormant within him. It was terrifying. The guy had some serious anger management issues to deal with.

"There you guys are. I've been looking everywhere for you. Dr. Taylor just called. Logan's back in the hospital. Apparently he had another seizure," Mrs. Knight said.

That got Kendall out of the trance-like state he was in. None of us could believe our ears. Logan was back in the hospital. Not only that, but he had another seizure. That could only mean one thing—he had epilepsy after all.

"What is going on here?" Mrs. Knight asked.

Kendall walked over to help Carlos up, but James shoved him out of the way. Carlos grabbed James's hand, and James pulled him up to his feet. James then turned on Kendall.

"Careful Kendall. If you keep this up, Logan will be the only friend you have," James warned.

I noticed James had a shiner. I still was in shock. I couldn't believe Kendall would hit James and Carlos. I thought they were friends. If he got angry enough, would he hit Logan too?

"Kendall Francis Knight, what did James mean by that?" Mrs. Knight demanded.

Kendall knew he was in trouble. He stared at his feet, refusing to look his mother in the eyes. Sweet, sweet justice.

"I'll tell you what happened. He punched me in the face, and shoved Carlos into the wall. That's what happened," James said, throwing Kendall under the bus.

"Kendall! Room! Now!" Mrs. Knight yelled.

"But Mom, I want to see Logan!" Kendall replied.

"You should have thought about that before you decided to hit your friends!"

Watching Kendall drag his feet behind him, his head hanging low, I cracked a smile. To tell you the truth, I had no idea Mrs. Knight had it in her.

"Camille, do you want to ride with us to the hospital?" Mrs. Knight asked.

"Sure. I'd like that," I responded.

I felt better going to the hospital without Kendall. Instead, I was surrounded by people who liked me, and I liked in return.

"I'm coming, Logan," I said out loud.

To Be Continued…

**A/N: Would you look at that? Kendall has a middle name now! Whaaaaat? F.Y.I. Francis is Kendall's real middle name. I just decided to…borrow…it. Oh, and CONFESSION: I enjoy writing Kendall as a douche much more than I probably should. It's seriously fun though. You should try it. Okay, okay. Honestly, I'm taking one little quote from an actual episode of the show (a quote you probably have already forgotten) and running with it. In 'Big Time Audition,' Gustavo Rocque said that Kendall has anger management issues. That is how I rationalize Kendall behaving how he's behaving in this story. Well, that and his fierce protectiveness of Logan. **


	24. Found You

**A/N: You know you have low self-esteem when you think a chapter is garbage (Chapter 23), yet people think it was a great chapter. Just to give you a heads up, this particular chapter will be a veritable hodgepodge of genres. **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Come on! I'm a cart pusher at Wal-Mart! Do you really think a lowly cart pusher would be so lucky as to own a kick awesome show like Big Time Rush? If so, then why would I continue to push carts? Because it's fun? You push carts for eight to nine hour shifts a day for over one year, and then tell me with a straight face that it's fun…if you can. **

**Big Time Disaster**

_Found You_

_Logan's POV_

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

Ugh! Not again!

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

I know that sound.

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

I really need to stop waking up in a hospital.

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

Maybe if I close my eyes…wait. They're already closed.

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

Maybe if I recite squares starting with one and increasing in numerical value…

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

One squared is one. Two squared is four. Three squared is nine.

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

Four squared is sixteen. Five squared is twenty-five. Six squared is thirty-six.

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

Seven squared is forty-nine. Eight squared is sixty-four. Nine squared is eighty-one.

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

That was a horrible hypothesis!

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

I'm a fairly patient person, but enough already!

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

I cracked open my eyes, and the room was so bright that I immediately squeezed my eyes shut. It was like I was hovering a foot above the sun and was staring into the star. There's a reason they say you're not supposed to look straight into the sun.

Okay, let's try this again, but slowly this time. On the count of three. One, two, two and a half, two and three-quarters, two and four-fifths, two and five-sixths, three. My eyelids fluttered open tentatively, and despite the blinding white light, I kept my eyes open this time.

My vision was blurry at first, but once my eyes had focused, I saw something sitting on top of my chest. It was a blue care bear that had no head. Its fur was mangled like it hadn't been washed…ever. There was red spatter all over it. I didn't know what the spatter was, but I know what it was supposed to look like—blood.

"What the…?" I screamed. I sat straight up in my bed, kicked off the sheets, grabbed the decapitated care bear, and chucked it across the room.

My heart was racing. I clasped a hand over my chest because it felt like that was the only thing I could do to keep it from beating out of my chest entirely. I jumped when I heard the phone ring. I looked over at the phone uneasily. It rang a second time. I was too scared to answer it. It rang a third time. Why couldn't they just hang up already? It rang a fourth time. Maybe I was overreacting. Maybe it was Camille or one of my friends. I picked it up before it rang a fifth time.

"H-hello?" I stammered.

No one answered. All I heard on the other end was deep, shallow breathing. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. I felt myself get goose bumps. I was thoroughly spooked. My mind was telling me to just hang up the phone, but my hand wasn't listening to my mind at the moment.

"W-who is this? W-what do you want?" I stuttered.

"Found you. Did you get my present?" a deep, sinister voice that I didn't recognize asked. It didn't sound like someone's actual voice; it seemed like the voice was being digitally enhanced. There was no telling who was on the other end.

Before I could respond, had I even been able to, the line went dead. I was barely aware of the fact that I had screamed. The only thing that led me to that conclusion was that Mrs. Knight, Camille, James, and Carlos came running in.

"Logan, what's wrong?" Mrs. Knight asked.

My eyes were wide with terror. Tears flowed freely from my eyes. My entire body was trembling—not because I was having a seizure—but because I was so incredibly frightened. I had a vice-like grip on the phone still.

James was quickly at my side, trying to wrestle the phone from me. He wasn't having much success.

"Logan, listen to me. It's okay. You can put the phone down," he said to me in a soothing voice.

I felt myself relinquish my grip on the phone. James placed his hand over mine, and together we hung the phone up.

"Are you okay, buddy? What happened?" Carlos asked.

"Is he gone?" I asked timidly.

"Is who gone?" James replied.

I started sobbing hysterically. I started sobbing uncontrollably. I buried my face in James's lucky white v-neck shirt, and cried my eyes out. He held my head to his chest, and allowed me to cry, gently shushing me, and whispering reassuring words in my ear.

"Whoever called me on the phone, and left me _that_!" I cried out, sitting up, and pointing at the offending toy on the floor.

Camille, Carlos, and Mrs. Knight walked over to the care bear. When they rolled it over, and saw how hideous looking and headless it was, they backed up a couple of steps.

"Oh my God!" Camille remarked.

"Mama Knight, can you make sure he's gone, and take Camille with you? I don't want her to see me like this," I said meekly.

"Oh, okay Logan," Mrs. Knight responded.

"Logan, I can't just leave you—" Camille started to say, before I cut her off.

"Please, Camille? Just go."

Mrs. Knight tugged on Camille's arm, and she reluctantly left my hospital room with Mrs. Knight. Carlos joined me on the other side of my hospital bed. Now that Camille was out of the room, I felt safe enough to bury my face in James's shirt once more and cry.

"When I find out who did this, I'll—" James started to say, as I felt him pull away from me.

"No! Don't go! Stay! Please stay! You can't leave me alone! Don't leave me alone!" I begged. I clung to James desperately like he was my lifeline or something.

I was probably acting like a big baby, but I could care less. I had never been so terrified before in my life. Someone had been in my hospital room with me when I was sleeping. Someone had placed that headless care bear on my chest while I was sleeping. Someone was watching me. Someone was clearly sending me a message; a message I heard loud and clear—no place was safe anymore.

"Get rid of it! Please get rid of it. I want it gone!" I shrieked.

I heard the shuffling of feet, and I assumed that Carlos went to dispose of the care bear, because I didn't feel James let go of me the whole time.

"I'll be right back, Logan, okay? I'll be right back," Carlos said before he left.

"I'm…scared James. Why is this…happening…to me? Who is…doing this…to me?" I asked, my sentences broken by sobs.

I felt James tighten his hold on me.

"I don't know, Logan, but I'm here. I'm right here. You're safe now. I won't let anything happen to you," James replied.

I heard the sound of approaching footsteps. My breath hitched in my throat. What if whoever left me the "present" was back?

"It's okay, Logan. It's just me," Carlos announced. I breathed a sigh of relief.

Carlos went back over to the side of my hospital bed opposite James. I noticed he was carrying his helmet rather than wearing his helmet. I also noticed for the first time that Kendall wasn't here. Where was he? Why didn't he come? Didn't he care?

"Where's Kendall?" I asked. I cringed at how pathetic my voice sounded.

I saw James and Carlos exchange a knowing look with each other. That's when I noticed that James had a black eye. I also noticed that there were tiny bandages on Carlos's eyelids. I was horrified. What happened to them? What if whoever was after me got to them? Did I cause them to get hurt? I started to hyperventilate.

"Relax, Logan. Breathe. It's okay. You're okay," Carlos said, giving me a small smile.

The mere idea that I could have been the one responsible for two of my best friends getting hurt made my stomach churn. I had to let go of James so that I could cover my mouth with one of my hands. I felt a sudden wave of queasiness. I completely let go of James, and stuck my head over the bed rail just in the nick of time. I vomited; I heard the plopping sound it made when it hit the floor. James handed me a tissue, and I wiped my mouth with it, before wadding it up and tossing it in the trash can at my bedside.

I couldn't bring myself to look at James or Carlos. I felt so ashamed of myself. They were probably ashamed of me too. I rolled over onto my stomach, buried my face into my pillow, and wept.

"Carlos, can you go get someone to clean this up?" James asked.

"On it," Carlos replied.

I heard Carlos leave once again. James rubbed small circles in my back. I could tell he was really concerned about me. I was a complete and utter mess. I was scared beyond belief. I felt sick to my stomach. I was tired—so tired. I was ashamed of myself. I hated when people fussed over me, but I was too afraid to be left alone.

"_Kendall_. Kendall wanted to be here. He just…" James trailed off.

I may have been an emotional wreck, but even I could tell that something was off when James spoke of Kendall. I racked my brain for logical explanations. Did they say something earlier that could have hinted as to why Kendall wasn't here? Why didn't I pay closer attention?

"We kind of…had a disagreement," James explained.

I rolled over onto my side, so that I was facing James. I still refused to look at him though. A few tears silently fell down my cheeks.

"Well, whatever he said, I'm sure you'll forgive each other. You always do," I commented.

"Not that kind of disagreement. Kendall shoved Carlos into a wall. Kendall gave me this shiner," James stated.

I was stunned speechless. Why would Kendall do that? That didn't sound like him at all. Usually, he's so protective of all of us. It just doesn't add up. Wait a second. Is this because of me? Is this what happens when I'm not around?

"Forgive him, James. Please? For me?" I asked, mustering up the courage to look up at him.

"You're kidding, right? Didn't you hear what I just said, Logan? He gave me a shiner!" James exclaimed, raising his voice.

My bottom lip quivered, and I could feel a fresh wave of tears coming. I squeezed my eyes closed tightly, hoping that would stop them from coming.

I heard two pairs of footsteps enter the room.

"I'm back. What did I miss?" Carlos asked.

"I just told Logan why Kendall isn't here with us," James answered.

"Oh," was all Carlos could say.

Closing my eyes hadn't helped one bit. I opened my eyes, and through the haze of tears, I could see a blurry James and Carlos sitting in front of me.

"You guys _have_ to forgive Kendall! If something happens to me…" I started to say.

"Stop it, Logan! Nothing's going to happen to you," James interjected.

"If something happens to me, I'd hate for the three of you to stop being friends," I finished.

"Nothing's going to happen to you, Logan! I won't let it!" James exclaimed.

I couldn't stop my tears from falling. I'm not sure what hurt worse—the idea of possibly one day being separated from the three best friends a guy could ever ask for, or the idea that without me, their friendship could quite possibly fall apart at the seams.

"Something could happen to me though, James! Someone got into my hospital room while I was unconscious! Someone left me that creepy stuffed animal! Someone called me on the phone, and said, 'Found you. Did you get my present?' Who's to say that next time, they won't stop at leaving me a decapitated care bear? Maybe next time…maybe next time…" I couldn't even finish that statement, before I broke down, and started crying. I buried my face in my hands, and cried.

James gathered me in his arms. My head rested on his shoulder as he held me close to him. I could feel moisture drip on me that wasn't from my eyes. I hesitantly looked up and saw that James was crying too. I chanced a glance at Carlos, and saw that he was sobbing as well. Great! Now I made two of my best friends cry. Just when I thought I couldn't sink any lower.

Carlos must have felt left out, because soon it turned into a group hug. I felt something fall onto the bed, but I wasn't sure what it was. The three of us held each other and cried. I'm not sure how long we stayed like that, but eventually none of us could cry another tear.

"Hey, Logan?" Carlos asked.

"Yeah?" I replied.

"I brought you something."

Carlos picked his helmet up off my hospital bed, and held it out in front of him. I wasn't sure what to make of this. That was Carlos's helmet. Why was he trying to give it to me?

"I've been doing some research. Crazy, right? Me doing research. Anyways, I read that sometimes people who have seizures wear helmets to protect their head when they fall," Carlos said.

If I had any tears left to cry, I would be crying again right now. I was so touched by Carlos's gesture. I still was trying to wrap my head around the fact that Carlos did research…_willingly_. This is the same guy who we pretty much have to strap to a chair so that he'll do his homework. Not only that, but he was willing to give me his helmet—his most prized possession. That meant the world to me. That meant more to me than Carlos will ever know.

"I can't accept this, Carlos. Besides, I have my own helmet," I replied, my lower lip trembling.

"True, but you don't have it with you now, and would you look at that? I happen to have one right here," Carlos replied, patting his lucky helmet a couple of times.

"Yeah, but _if_ I do take this, what will you wear on your head?"

Carlos shrugged his shoulders in response.

"It's okay though. You need it more than I do," Carlos commented. "Besides, that way, if you happen to have another seizure, even if I'm not there when you do, I can protect you."

"Thanks, Carlos," I said, before yawning loudly. "You're the best."

I placed Carlos's helmet on my head, and did the strap before resting my head on my pillow, and drifting off to an easy sleep, knowing that I was safe with two of my best friends in the room watching over me.

To Be Continued…

**A/N: So…who loves Fish Stick Friday? The day or me, take your pick. ;)**


	25. Kogan

**A/N: After watching the preview for 'Big Time Girlfriends' last night, I need to rant because I am seriously ticked off. I kid you not, I literally screamed, "No!" at my television screen when I watched this. I mean Logan and Camille finally become a couple, and now THIS happens? Let's start with James. After seeing James kiss Camille, my dislike for him got magnified ten times. How could he do that to Logan? What about in 'Big Time Dance' when he said that Camille wasn't his (James') type? James could have any girl at the Palm Woods (with the exceptions of maybe the Jennifers), yet he has to go after the girl Logan likes. Like Carlos said in 'Big Time Love Song' it looks like YET AGAIN, James "always gets the girl." Now for Camille. It would be one thing if James kissed Camille, but she kissed James too. How could she do that to Logan? After pining after him, after he finally started to return her feelings, after they finally became a couple, she goes and kisses some other guy, and not just some other guy either, one of Logan's best friends! Not to say I told you so, but seeing some of the stories here that have Logan cheating on Camille, I always knew that if anyone would be doing the cheating, it would be Camille, and this preview proves it, so…I told you so! I'm an avid Logan/Camille shipper, but let's make one thing perfectly clear, more than that, I am Team Logan, and if forced to choose between Logan/Camille and Team Logan, I would choose Team Logan every single time. I seriously hope that Logan doesn't forgive James or Camille, but I have a feeling he will because this is a Nickelodeon show, and they like to tie up all loose ends by the end of the episode. I almost don't want to even watch 'Big Time Girlfriends' now because I am so appalled by this.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything, because if I did, this farce of an episode 'Big Time Girlfriends' would SO not go down like that!**

**Big Time Disaster**

_Kogan_

_Kendall's POV_

I was pacing back and forth in my room. I hated being stuck here. I hated not knowing what was going on with Logan. I hated not knowing if he was okay. I hated not being able to be there for him and with him. As I stared at my reflection in James's full-length mirror, I didn't even recognize the person staring back at me anymore. Who was he?

Now that I had a chance to calm down, the self-loathing began. I seriously hated myself. Who I am hates who I've been. I can't believe I almost hit Camille. My mom raised me better than that; I was brought up never to hit a girl. I can't believe that I pushed Carlos into a wall. I can't believe that I punched James in the face. It would have been one thing if I punched him in the gut or something, but no, I had to punch him in the face—his money maker.

Everyone saw me as some sort of leader. I was no leader. The idea of me being a leader was a joke. _I _was a joke. Leaders were supposed to keep people together. I only tore people apart. Leaders were supposed to boost morale. I merely obliterated what was left of it. Leaders were supposed to be good examples. I was a good example…of what _not_ to be.

What was happening to me? Why was I getting so angry? Why couldn't I control myself when I got this angry? It's weird. I remember what happened consciously, but subconsciously, I don't remember it actually happening. It's like anything I did when I was so full of rage was completely forgotten to me. It's like it was completely blacked out from my memory.

I hurt two of my best friends. I'm not talking emotionally either, although I probably did that too. I meant physically. I physically harmed two of my best friends. They will probably never forgive me, and frankly, I wouldn't blame them if they didn't. If I were them, I wouldn't forgive me either. I wanted to make things right with them. I wanted that so desperately. I just didn't have the foggiest idea where to even begin or if I should even try. It seemed like a lost cause, so what was the point?

I can't help but to think that I had broken the promise I made to James, Carlos, and Logan. I had promised them that I wouldn't let this place change me. Now, I don't necessarily know if this place changed me, but I knew that I had changed, and by doing so, I had broken my promise to them. That's just great. Now, I'm not even a man of my word. Now, I can't even keep a promise. Was there anything I _could_ do right?

I felt my phone vibrate in my pant pocket. I pulled it out and looked at the Caller ID. I rubbed my eyes because I wasn't sure I had read that correctly. It must have been some sort of mistake. I mean that was impossible. It _was_ impossible, wasn't it? The name displayed on the Caller ID was Camille.

"Hello?" I answered, uneasily.

"Kendall?" Camille greeted. I could tell that she had been doing a whole lot of crying lately. It wouldn't surprise me if she was crying right now as we spoke.

I was trying to figure out why Camille would be calling me. After what happened last night, I would think she wouldn't want to have anything to do with me anymore. In the unlikely event that she _did_ call me, I just presumed it would be to chew me out and give me a piece of her mind. I certainly didn't expect her to be crying when she called me.

"It's Logan. It's horrible. He needs you, Kendall," Camille pleaded.

_He needs you, Kendall_. What did Camille mean by that? Weren't James and Carlos with Logan? If so, then why did he need me too? I mean don't get me wrong, it wasn't that I didn't want to see Logan; it wasn't that I wasn't happy to get to see Logan. It's just what could I do for him, if anything, that James and Carlos couldn't?

"I got to tell you, Camille. I'm surprised you called me. I thought you would hate my guts by now," I admitted.

I heard Camille laugh. It wasn't a hearty laugh or anything, but it was a laugh nonetheless. "I kind of do, but that can wait. There are more important things to worry about now, like Logan," she replied.

Camille was right. Logan was all that mattered now. Any bad blood between me and Camille can be put on the backburner for now. Now Camille said something horrible happened. What could it be? Did Logan have another seizure? Did he lose more of his memory? Was he in pain? My mind raced as I tried to think of every possible thing that could be wrong with Logan.

"Someone got to Logan while he was sleeping. Someone left him a present—a headless care bear," Camille explained.

The blood in my veins ran cold. It took every ounce of willpower I had _not_ to drop my cell phone. My free hand balled up into a fist. It was clenched so tightly, that my knuckles turned white, and my fingernails burrowed their way through the flesh of my palm. I could feel blood trickle out of the fresh wounds.

_Someone got to Logan while he was sleeping_. I had never heard eight worse words in my life. Suddenly, I was gripped by paralyzing fear. _It's horrible_. Oh no! Logan was hurt, wasn't he? What if he wasn't just hurt? What if it was worse than that? What if he had…no, I couldn't even stand the thought of that. He couldn't! Not Logan!

_Logan needs you_. How could Logan need me if he was…? Even if he wasn't, how much of Logan was left? Would I even recognize him? Would he just be a shell of his former self? Was he broken beyond repair? Why? Why Logan? Why was all this bad stuff happening to Logan? Out of all my best friends, it had to be the one that got scared the easiest. Out of all my best friends, it had to be the one who was the most vulnerable. Out of all of my best friends, it had to be the one I cared about the most. Out of all my best friends, it had to be Logan.

_Someone left him a present—a headless care bear_. What kind of sick, cruel, twisted, demented person would leave Logan a headless stuffed animal? Was that a sign of what was in store for Logan? Someone left Logan a sick message, a message that everyone heard loud and clear. What did whoever was doing this want with Logan? Why was this person terrorizing Logan? Logan didn't do anything wrong.

"I'm on my way," I told Camille, before hanging up the phone.

Logan had always looked to me for answers on the rare occasions when he didn't have them. He always looked to me for guidance and direction when he panicked. He counted on me. I had no intention of letting Logan down. Not now, not ever.

XXXXX

I stood in the doorway of Logan's hospital room. Ironically enough, it was the exact same room he was in the last time he was here at the hospital, Room 307. I peeked inside and saw James on one side of Logan's hospital bed. Carlos was on the other side. Both of them held onto one of Logan's hands. I also noticed that he was wearing Carlos's helmet. I wondered what that was all about.

As I went to cross the threshold, I found that I was scared to. It's like I physically couldn't walk forward. Maybe I was getting a case of cold feet. Maybe that's what it was. Seeing James and Carlos be there for Logan in a way that I couldn't earlier, _when_ I couldn't earlier, I felt like Logan didn't need me. For the first time in my life, Logan _didn't_ need me.

When I turned around to leave, I heard his voice call out to me.

"Kendall?" he said.

I slowly turned around to look at him, and what I saw nearly broke my heart. He looked hurt. His nose was red and runny. Tears were leaking from the corners of his eyes. His eyes were glazed over and the browns of his eyes wavered back and forth as he looked at me. He didn't need to say anything for me to know what he was thinking; "Where are you going? Why are you leaving?"

"Hey, Logie," I greeted, my voice sounding pitiful.

James let go of Logan's hand, slid his chair backwards, the chair legs scraping against the hospital floor sounded like nails on a chalkboard, stood up from his chair, and stormed his way over to me. Seeing his shiner was a not-so-subtle reminder of the way I behaved last night. I was so ashamed of myself.

"What are _you_ doing here?" James asked, his voice icy, and his eyes dark.

"Camille called me," I responded.

James scoffed.

"Right. I'm supposed to believe that?" he remarked.

"I don't care what you believe. I'm here now, and Logan's my best friend too, so I'm not going anywhere," I said, planting my feet firmly on the ground.

"James, Kendall, please don't fight!" Logan whimpered.

Hearing Logan like that pulled at my heartstrings. I had no intention of fighting James. Unlike him, I didn't want to do anything that could upset Logan. However, James was so bent on revenge that I was concerned he would do something that upset Logan.

"You know what they say Kendall—an eye for an eye," James said.

The next thing I knew, I was flat on my back, and staring up at James who stood over me. I felt a sharp pain underneath my left eye, and I was pretty sure that now I had a black eye myself. James had punched me.

"James!" Logan cried out.

"He punched me first!" James exclaimed.

"I don't care! It doesn't mean you have to punch him back!"

I sat up. Even though my head was spinning, I could still make out Logan trying to get out of his hospital bed. Carlos was holding him back. I wasn't quite sure what to make of that. Was Carlos holding Logan back because he didn't want me to see him? Or was Carlos holding Logan back because he wanted him to take it easy? Normally, Carlos wasn't one to hold a grudge. Normally, none of us were ones to hold a grudge. However, nothing about this situation was _normal_.

"It's okay, Logan. I'm okay," I said reassuringly.

"James, Carlos, will you let me talk to Kendall alone for a bit?" Logan asked.

I hated how he was asking James and Carlos for their permission. If he wanted to talk to me, then he should be able to talk to me regardless of whether or not James and Carlos approve. I kind of felt like this was a custody battle and we were fighting over custody of Logan.

"Are you serious? I'm not leaving you alone with _him_!" James said, pointing an accusing finger at me.

"It's okay James. I _want_ to talk to Kendall," Logan replied.

James and Carlos reluctantly left the room, James more reluctantly than Carlos. James wouldn't even look at me as he made his exit. Carlos on the other hand, gave me a small, sympathetic smile. That spoke volumes. I could tell that Carlos wanted to be my friend again. I could tell that he had forgiven me. Carlos was really horrible at holding grudges. However, if it came down to me or James, I knew that Carlos would always side with James; he was just closer to him. He always has been.

I hated what was happening to us. The four of us used to be the best of friends. Now, we were a hot mess. Major rifts were forming between us. I was on one side. James and Carlos were on the other. Logan was stuck in the middle. I knew I wasn't without blame though. If I had never hit James in the first place, none of this would have ever happened.

I got up and sat in the chair Carlos had been sitting in at Logan's bedside. I saw that Logan's body was so racked by sobs that he was trembling like a leaf.

"This is my fault, isn't it? You guys are fighting because of me, aren't you? Is this how it's going to be? If something happens to me, and I'm not around anymore," Logan said, averting eye contact.

"Logan, look at me," I instructed. He still refused to meet my gaze. "Look at me."

He slowly looked up at me. His eyes shimmered with tears. I hated that he was blaming himself. I hated that he somehow felt responsible for what was happening between me and James.

"This isn't your fault, and nothing's going to happen to you, so stop saying that," I urged.

"Are you clairvoyant?" Logan asked me.

I really didn't like it when Logan used big words. Usually he was pretty good at using words we could understand. I guess the only time he really used big words was when he was upset.

"Claire who now?" I replied.

"Clairvoyant. Can you see the future?" Logan asked.

"No."

"Then you don't know that nothing's going to happen to me!"

See, this was one of the many reasons why I hated that this was happening to Logan. When he was scared, when he was worried, he often assumed the worst; he often gave into his pessimism. At least if it had been James or Carlos or even me instead of Logan, we wouldn't already sound so defeated and resigned to a fate we weren't even certain was truly ours to begin with.

I desperately wanted to change the subject. I refused to believe that Logan could be right, and I might lose him soon. I chose not to be pessimistic. I chose to hold on to hope. There was something that had been nagging me ever since my mom told me that Logan had his second seizure.

"Hey Logan, why did you have another seizure? I thought your medicine was supposed to stop that from happening?" I asked.

Yet again, Logan broke eye contact with me.

"I didn't take my medicine yesterday," Logan said matter-of-factly.

"Oh Logan, why not? I thought you told me if there was a chance that the medicine could help you, it was a chance you were willing to take," I commented.

Logan looked at me. He looked offended by what I had said to him. He no doubt didn't appreciate that I took his own words and basically threw them back in his face.

"It's not like I woke up yesterday morning and was like, 'Gee, I think I won't take my seizure medication today,' Kendall! There were just circumstances…beyond my control…that prevented me from taking my medicine. That's all!" Logan exclaimed.

"Circumstances beyond your control? What circumstances?" I retorted, feeling my voice start to grow louder.

Logan looked down again. I instantly felt bad that I was raising my voice at him.

"What circumstances?" I asked again, keeping my voice soft this time.

"I got in a couple of fights. Well, one fight really. I didn't hit anyone though, except for in self-defense," Logan explained.

I wasn't clueless. I knew full well that when Logan said that he got into a fight, that he didn't mean he picked a fight with someone; he meant that someone picked a fight with him. I knew that Logan wasn't the fighting type. I knew that the only way he would hit someone was, like he said, in self-defense. I was actually extremely proud of him for defending himself. In school and on the hockey rink, he was always too scared to fight back.

"It's my turn to ask a question now," Logan said. "How could you do what you did to James and Carlos?"

I was surprised when Logan didn't mention anything about me almost hitting Camille. I started to wonder if maybe no one had told him about that part. Maybe it was for the best that they didn't. If they had, Logan would probably be mad at me too. Then I realized that it was next to impossible for me to explain why I snapped at James and Carlos without telling Logan what happened between me and Camille first.

"I was just so angry," I answered, hoping that was a good enough answer for Logan.

"Why?" Logan asked. I inwardly groaned. I had a feeling he would ask that question.

"I just hate how all this bad stuff keeps happening to you."

Logan appeared deep in thought. Perplexed was more like it. I was doing everything in my power to avoid bringing up Camille in my explanations. That was one land mine I wanted to avoid at all costs.

"What does that have to do with James and Carlos?" Logan inquired.

"They were just in the wrong place at the wrong time," I lied.

Logan shook his head left to right.

"No, that's not it. It doesn't add up. There's something else. There's something you're not telling me. What is it?" Logan asked.

Leave it to Logan to be so smart. Leave it to Logan to be so intuitive. I took a deep breath before continuing.

"Camille slapped me because she and I said some things to each other in the heat of the moment that looking back now, I wish I could take back. I was so angry at her that she backed away from me. That's when Carlos and James jumped in, and paid for it," I explained, closing my eyes shut upon finishing. I couldn't bear to see Logan's reaction.

"Wait a second. Why would she back away from you? Unless…Kendall, please tell me that you weren't going to hit her!" Logan exclaimed.

"I'm sorry Logan. Please forgive me. I don't know why I get like this."

Logan didn't answer me. He didn't verbally acknowledge my apology. Because my eyes were closed, and I was too scared to open them, I had no idea if he non-verbally acknowledged my apology. I wouldn't blame him if he didn't. I was a jerk. I was a loose cannon. If Logan did forgive me, it's not because I was deserving of his forgiveness, it's because he was much too nice of a guy not to.

"I think I do. No offense, but you're a bit of a control freak. You like being in control. You like being in charge. It suits you. Plus, you like it when things happen because you make them happen not because they just happen naturally. You said you don't like how all this bad stuff keeps happening to me. While part of it is because bad stuff is happening to me, another part of it is because you have no control over it. You can't do anything about it. You hate that. I know you don't approve of my relationship with Camille. You've made no bones about that. I think part of the reason is because you are uber-competitive. To you, everything has a winner and a loser. To you, everything is a competition, and you hate losing. But not everything is a competition, Kendall. This isn't a matter of who cares about me more—you or Camille? This isn't a matter of who gets to spend more time with me—you or Camille? You can both have me. I know that you both care a great deal about me, so you don't have to prove anything to me," Logan explained.

It was uncanny how spot on Logan was. He provided me with insight about myself that even I didn't know. I guess it's to be expected though when you have a best friend that is as smart as Logan is. Nothing gets by him.

"Sometimes, it feels like you know me better than I know myself," I admitted.

"Because sometimes, I think I do," Logan replied.

I slowly opened both of my eyes, and much to my relief, saw that Logan wasn't mad at me. It looked as though he felt sorry for me. He was right about me. He knew it. I knew it. We both knew it. I was surprised that Logan didn't hate me after what I just told him about what I almost did to Camille. I didn't know what I had done to deserve a best friend like Logan, but I was so incredibly grateful I had him.

"You're right though. It's just ever since you and Camille started dating and hanging out so much, we haven't really had any quality Kogan time," I stated.

Logan knitted his eyebrows at me in confusion.

"Kogan time?" he replied.

"Yeah. Kendall/Logan. Kogan," I answered.

"Did you come up with that?"

"Well, no…"

"Then who did?"

"It's not important."

"Wait a second."

"What?"

"Why are you first?"

"Come again?"

"In Kogan, why are you first?"

At this point in time, it took every ounce of willpower I could muster just to keep a straight face. The kicker was that Logan was being completely serious too. That just made it even more difficult to keep a straight face.

"I don't know," I replied.

"Does that mean I'm like the girl?" Logan asked.

After hearing that, I couldn't stop myself from bursting out laughing. Logan merely rolled his eyes at me.

"Well, I mean in Brangelina and Bennifer, the second name is the girl's name. So, by association, in Kogan, the second name…" Logan started to explain.

"Okay, Logan. Stop. You are being _way _too analytical right now!"I commented.

"Just saying I'm not a girl."

I tried my hardest to stifle another laugh. That was one of the things that was so great about Logan. He had a tendency to make you feel better while being completely oblivious to the fact that's what he was doing. After hearing Logan carry on about Kogan, I already felt much better.

The two of us fell into a comfortable silence. I looked over at him, and I could still see the gears turning in his head. I had a hunch I knew what he was still thinking about. He still had Kogan on his mind. I snickered.

"Hey Logie?" I said.

"Yeah, Kendall?" he responded.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here earlier."

"It's okay. You're here now. That's all that matters."

To Be Continued…

**A/N: Holy cow! This is the longest chapter yet! Granted, it included my rant about the 'Big Time Girlfriends' preview, but still. Which, by the way, I have the song 'Til I Forget About You' on repeat on my iPhone because after watching the preview, if I were Logan, this is the only BTR song that is fitting. Oh, and I love you all for getting this story to the 400 review mark!**


	26. Breaking down the Walls

**A/N: I wanted to start off by apologizing for not including something in the Author's Note of the last chapter. I had every intention of including it, but then I got so caught up in my rant, and yeah. Anyways, Kogan in the last chapter meant bromance. I assumed you realized this, but I just wanted to make sure. I don't write slash. Sorry.**

**Disclaimer: See any of the previous chapter's disclaimers.**

**Big Time Disaster**

_Breaking down the Walls_

_Camille's POV_

I poked my head in Logan's hospital room. I rapped my knuckles on the doorframe. I was actually kind of jealous of Kendall, James, and Carlos. They got to spend so much time with Logan today, while I had barely seen him at all despite me being at the hospital all day. Truth be told, it kind of hurt when Logan sent me away. I wanted to be there for him too, but he wouldn't let me. Why wouldn't he let me?

"Is it my turn?" I asked.

Logan and Kendall both looked up at me. Kendall nodded his head up and down once. Logan had an apologetic look on his face. After sharing a bromantic hug with Logan, Kendall got up, and walked over to me. I wasn't sure what to expect. Lately it was hard to tell with Kendall; his behavior was so wildly unpredictable.

"Thanks Camille. You know, for calling me earlier," Kendall said.

We had agreed to be civil to one another for Logan's sake, but this actually seemed heartfelt. It actually seemed genuine. I was certainly caught off guard. I hadn't been counting on Kendall thanking me for something that if roles were reversed, he would do no differently.

"You're welcome," I replied.

Kendall left the room, and I sat down in the chair he was sitting in. I held one of Logan's hands in both of mine. He certainly looked much better than he did earlier today. Of course, anything would be an improvement over the emotional wreck he was previously.

"I'm sorry about earlier. You shouldn't have had to see me like that," Logan said.

I frowned. Now I saw a different emotion cross his face—shame. He was ashamed of himself for being so scared and vulnerable earlier. Or maybe he was just ashamed of himself for being so scared and vulnerable in front of _me_. Wait a second. Is _that_ why he sent me away earlier?

"Logan, you _do_ know that you can cry and be afraid around me too, don't you? I mean you feel comfortable enough to cry and be afraid around Kendall, James, and Carlos. Honestly, it kind of hurts that you don't feel comfortable enough to be vulnerable around me too," I admitted.

The two of us gazed into each other's eyes. The apologetic look was back on his face, and it particularly was conveyed through his eyes; it was like with his eyes alone, he was apologizing to me. He didn't have to apologize to me. He had nothing to be sorry for. Why did he keep apologizing to me? I mean, yeah, I was kind of hurt by his behavior, but I wasn't mad at him. I don't think I could ever really be mad at Logan.

"I'm sorry. It's just…do you remember the last time we talked just you and me? It was right here. Remember that? I do. I was comforting you. That's how it's supposed to work. I'm supposed to comfort _you_. I'm supposed to be strong for _you_," Logan stated.

That was such a guy response. I let out a frustrated sigh that only made Logan cringe. He was trying to be a cookie cutter guy. I didn't want a cookie cutter guy. I didn't want him to be some robot—some unthinking, unfeeling robot. The fact that he wasn't a cookie cutter guy, the fact that he wasn't a robot, was one of the things I liked about him. Logan was sensitive and emotional. He wore his heart on his sleeve…except for around me, much to my chagrin.

"Logan, I want you to know that it's okay to let _me_ comfort you. It's okay to let _me_ be the strong one every now and then. It's okay to be vulnerable around me. I _want_ to be the one to comfort you. I _want _to be the strong one for you. Just so you know, seeing you cry, seeing you afraid doesn't make me think any less of you. In fact, it's just the opposite; it makes me think even more of you," I replied.

I didn't expect Logan to completely bare his heart and soul to me now. I knew better than that. I knew that it would be a work in progress. I just hoped that he would feel comfortable enough to break down some of the walls that he puts up around himself.

"I guess another reason I don't want you to feel like you have to protect me is because I get enough of that with Kendall, James, and Carlos as it is. I get kind of tired of being babied. I get kind of tired of them feeling like they always have to protect me. I don't _always_ need their protection. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm not as helpless as they make me out to be," Logan commented.

I didn't understand why Logan kept on insisting on being some sort of tough guy. He didn't need to be a tough guy. What was he trying to prove? He didn't have to prove anything to anybody. Knowing that he felt comfortable enough to cry and be afraid around Kendall, James, and Carlos, but not me got under my skin, to be honest.

"No one thinks you're helpless Logan. Well, I can't speak for everyone else, but I don't think you're helpless. If you need help though, there's no shame in asking for it," I said.

Looking into Logan's gorgeous chocolate brown eyes, I saw them start to brim with tears. It was horrible thinking this, but I was glad that he was crying around me. It showed me that he was trying to break down some of his walls, and reach a new level of comfort around me. I could tell that he was growing tired of keeping up this charade of his.

"I'm so scared Camille. My bail hearing isn't for another two days, and I know that the hospital will release me soon enough, which means that I have to go back to juvenile hall, and I don't want to go back there because there are some people there that want to hurt me," Logan blubbered.

It was a bittersweet turn of events; it was bitter because Logan was crying and scared. It was sweet because he actually felt comfortable enough to be vulnerable around me for the first time. I let him rest his head on my shoulder as his tears now flowed freely. I found my eyes start to get moist as well. I was scared too. The thought of Logan having to go back to juvenile hall was too much to bear.

"Who left me that Care Bear? Why was it headless? Why did it look like there was blood on it? I feel like no place is safe anymore. I can't take this anymore! I just want it to stop. I want everything to just stop!" Logan exclaimed.

Hearing Logan bring up the Care Bear just reminded me about earlier in the morning. I will never forget that for the rest of my life. Hearing Logan scream like that—a bloodcurdling scream that haunted me even now. Then, seeing the stuffed animal for the first time. I had my suspicions about who left Logan that Care Bear. As far as I was concerned, there was only one suspect—my dad.

All the pieces seemed to fit. He hated Logan. He disapproved of my relationship with him. He threatened that he would do something to him. He had told me that no matter where Logan was, he could get to him—even in the hospital.

I just didn't understand what my dad was trying to accomplish by terrorizing Logan like he was. Was he trying to scare Logan into staying away from me? Was he trying to scare me into staying away from Logan? Or was this more than just an empty threat? Was this just the tip of the iceberg? Did my dad plan on going further than just using scare tactics? Did he actually intend on physically harming Logan?

I felt so awful, after practically begging Logan to feel comfortable enough to cry in front of me, now that he was, I wanted him to stop. I hated seeing him like that. It broke my heart. No one should be that sad. No one should be that scared. Especially not Logan. I was at a loss at what to do. What _could_ you do in a situation like this? Could you even do _anything_?

"I don't know, Logan. It's going to be okay though. You have so many people pulling for you. Together, we'll get you through this," I said, not sure who I was trying to convince more—me or Logan.

Over the course of the next several minutes, I held Logan while the both of us cried. He was scared. I was scared. Neither of us knew what the future held for Logan. That's what was so scary about the future; the uncertainty. Things could be fantastically terrific. Or they could be agonizingly awful. The status quo could be shaken to its very foundation all in the blink of an eye.

"Camille?" Logan asked, his voice very nasally.

"Yeah?" I replied.

"Do you have any regrets?"

"I'm not sure I follow."

"About us. Do you ever think that it might have just been easier if you fell for some other guy?"

I was so floored by what Logan had just said. I was at a loss for words. How could he say that? How could he even think that? Didn't he know me better than that? Sure, things had been rough, but I wouldn't trade it for the world. I wish I could tell Logan that, but the words just wouldn't come out. I was afraid of what Logan thought of my silence.

"I guess I got my answer," Logan said dejectedly.

Since my words were failing me at the moment, I decided to take a different approach. I let go of Logan's hand so that I could place a hand on each of Logan's cheeks. I leaned in. As the saying goes, actions speak louder than words. I kissed Logan passionately. I was basically the only one doing the kissing as per our usual routine, but I didn't mind one bit. I needed to let Logan know that I had no regrets about falling for him. I could tell that he was startled by my forwardness; he was always startled by my forwardness. It was funny; you'd think he'd be at least a little used to it by now.

I heard someone clear their throat. I immediately pulled back. I blushed fiercely, and I saw Logan rub the back of his neck. His cheeks were as red as a tomato. I looked over at the doorway, and saw my mom standing there, eyebrows raised, and hands on her hips.

"Am I interrupting something?" she asked.

"Well, actually…" I started to reply.

"You must be Mrs. Sanders. It's a pleasure to finally meet you," Logan said, holding out his hand for my mom to shake.

I was bewildered by how quickly my mom closed the distance between her and Logan. I could see the adoration in her eyes. I slapped myself on the forehead. It looked like I wasn't the only one who liked Logan.

"No, none of that!" my mom remarked.

She grabbed Logan's hand only to pull him in for a hug. She sighed contently as she hugged him.

"Whoa! O…kay…" Logan commented.

I was torn between rolling my eyes and barfing. As the seconds ticked by, I noticed that she still wasn't letting go of Logan.

"Mom, let go of Logan! Mom. Mom!" I shouted.

I had to physically pry my mother off _my_ love interest. Logan had this adorable deer in the headlights look on his face. I cracked a smile despite my mom's crazy antics.

"I'm sorry. It's just that when Camille told me all about you, she failed to mention how cute you are," my mom said to Logan.

Logan looked first at me, then at my mom.

"Yeah, I don't even know how to respond to that," Logan commented.

It was official. I was mortified. See? This is why my boyfriend should _never_ meet my mother. I was never ever going to live this down.

"I'm so excited! I finally met the guy that is going to be my son-in-law someday!" my mom gushed.

Logan's jaw dropped. I scanned the room for anything I could use as a gag. If my mom would just stop talking…

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Son-in-law? I don't know about that…" Logan remarked.

I cleared my throat obnoxiously.

"I mean yes! Someday," Logan said in a sing-song voice, before clicking his tongue twice, winking, and pointing his finger at my mother.

Was it possible to actually die of humiliation? Has anyone ever done that before? If not, maybe I'd go down in the record books as the first case. I certainly felt as though I would actually die of humiliation.

"I called Mrs. Knight and asked her if it was okay if I picked you up and took you home," my mom said while ogling Logan. I didn't like the way she was looking at him one bit.

"Mom! Why don't you go wait for me in the car? Okay? Okay!" I exclaimed, before ushering her out of the room.

I heard Logan snickering behind me. I didn't find anything amusing about this whatsoever.

Once the elevator door had closed on my mother, I went back to Logan's hospital room. As soon as I entered, he quickly—too quickly—put on a straight face.

"Looks like you have some competition," Logan commented, grinning.

I walked over to him, and playfully socked him in the shoulder.

"Ouchies!" Logan exclaimed, playing along.

I shook my finger at him.

"You better not give my mom any ideas either!" I warned.

He draped an arm around my shoulder.

"Don't worry, Camille. I'm not into the whole cougar/cub thing," he stated.

To Be Continued…

**A/N: So, I bet you wasn't expecting THAT from Camille's mom, was you? Gosh, I think I seriously suffocated from all the fluff there at the end. You better not get used to it either. This is just the calm before the storm, so I hope you enjoyed all the fluff in the last three chapters. **


	27. Some Things Change, Some Things Don't

**A/N: I have Wednesday and Thursday off this week. That doesn't necessarily mean that I'll be able to squeeze two updates out in those two days, but it's more probable than had I worked both of those days. We'll see how creative I'm feeling. You know how creative juices are—so not consistent.**

**Disclaimer: All my mail to Nickelodeon requesting to become part of their staff, gets stamped, "Return to Sender." I guess that means I'm not affiliated with Nickelodeon, which subsequently means I don't own Big Time Rush in any way, shape, or form. **

**Big Time Disaster**

_Some Things Change, Some Things Don't_

_Sid's POV_

After dinner at the mess hall, I went back to my prison cell. I saw that it was already occupied by my roommate. Logan was back. When did he get back? I unconsciously grabbed my bandaged ribs. I recalled a…_talk_…my father and I had earlier in the day.

_Flashback_

My dad entered the prison cell. I backed up a few paces. He looked irate. I had a pretty good guess why too. I didn't get scared easily. I didn't really get scared at all. The only exception is my father. He frightened me. He beat me. He was bigger than me. He was stronger than me. He could do more damage to me.

"How's Logan?" I asked, genuinely curious.

He grabbed two fistfuls of my jump suit, and slammed my back into the wall. A sharp, stabbing pain traveled up my spinal cord from the impact.

"'How's Logan?' you ask? How's Logan? How do you think he is? You incompetent little punk! You good-for-nothing pathetic excuse for a human being! You waste of oxygen! After the stunt you pulled, you have the nerve to ask 'How's Logan?'" he yelled.

The next thing I knew, I got punched in the face. My father hit me so hard that one of my teeth came out. I could taste my own blood in my mouth. Fuzzy black spots danced in front of me. I spit some blood on the floor.

"Who do you think you are? Smarting off like you did to me! You want to be a wise guy, huh?" my dad asked me before knocking me over with a punch just under my right eye.

I rolled off my back, and was on all fours, when my dad started kicking me in the ribs over and over again. Every time I would pick myself up again, and get back on all fours, he would kick me once more, and back on my stomach I would lay.

The longer this process repeated itself, the harder it became for me to pick myself up off the ground. So, I decided to not even bother. I just lay on my stomach. My dad tore open the material over my back. Then, he took off his leather belt, and started whipping me with it. The sound of leather smacking flesh filled the hallways.

I clenched my teeth, and pressed my lips firmly together. I didn't want to scream out in pain. I didn't want to give my father the satisfaction of hearing how much agony he was inflicting upon me. My body twisted and contorted after each and every blow.

I lost track of how many times my dad whipped me with the leather belt. It was suddenly really difficult to even keep my eyes open. I could feel liquid dribble down my back. I had a feeling I knew what that liquid was—blood.

The last thing I heard before I lost consciousness was, "Logan's coming back today. You better not fail me again or you will get a beating ten times worse than this! Got it?"

_End Flashback_

I sat on Logan's bed, and he immediately scooted away from me. He never took his eyes off me. He watched my every move with apprehension. It was apparent that he was still scared of me. I remembered how he had fallen and started convulsing. That was a truly terrifying experience, even for someone like me, who doesn't scare easily.

"So what happened? How are you?" I asked.

"I had a seizure. I'm fine," Logan replied immediately, probably afraid of what would happen if he didn't answer me right away.

After my father and I were unable to get a single hit in on Logan yesterday, I had a newfound respect for Logan. I could now see why everyone else, including the people I used to call my friends, respected Logan. He had this magnetic quality to him that drew people to him. There was something about him that made people feel compelled to protect him. Heck, I even entertained the idea of protecting Logan from my father when he was facing him one-on-one. Plus, in a fair fight, he was hardly the easy target that I had originally pegged him to be.

"For what it's worth, I'm really sorry about what happened. I know it was my fault you had a seizure. I feel so horrible," I commented.

For the briefest of moments, there was gratitude in Logan's eyes. Then, just like that, it was gone without a trace. He went back to not trusting me again. He probably didn't even believe a word I said. If I was him, I wouldn't believe me either.

The room was suddenly spinning as my back was in searing pain. I massaged both of my temples with my hands. The next thing I knew, I had toppled over, and found myself lying on the floor. Logan was instantly at my side, kneeling beside me.

"Are you okay?" he asked. I could tell that he truly cared. Why he cared was beyond me.

"My…back…" I got out through clenched teeth.

He lifted up the back of my shirt.

"You're bleeding. Whoever wrapped up your ribcage did a horrible job by the way," Logan said.

The kid never ceased to amaze me. Now he was some doctor-in-training? Was there anything he couldn't do? Logan's assessment was confirmed as I felt some blood trickle down my back. I didn't want to make this difficult for Logan, so I lay perfectly still.

"Could you redo my bandages then?" I asked.

"Sure," he replied right away

I felt him unwrap the shoddy wrap job my father had done earlier. I sat up so that he could unwrap my bandages better. Once he had finished, he tightly wrapped the bandages around my injured ribs. I could tell that was how bandages were supposed to feel because once Logan had finished, my ribs actually felt secure.

"There. How's that?" he asked.

"Much better," I responded, giving him an appreciative smile.

He sat back on his bed. I got up and sat next to him again. Yet again, he scooted away from me. Even though the two of us just shared a moment, he still didn't completely trust me yet. I wondered if he even trusted me at all.

The two of us sat in silence. He continued to watch me uneasily. I realize trust isn't something given out freely. Trust is something you have to earn. I just hoped that Logan would trust me eventually.

"Is that from your dad?" Logan asked. I was surprised. Before, he only spoke when he was spoken to.

I frowned. My daddy issues weren't something I was particularly proud of. A son can't choose his father. He's just kind of stuck with whatever father he gets. I was no different. When I think about it, I can't recall a time in my life when my father didn't beat me.

"Yeah," I replied.

He marginally scooted closer to me. Logan still wasn't right beside me, but he was closer than he was before.

"I'm sorry. No father should treat their kid like that," Logan stated.

I was stunned. Logan was apologizing to me. He felt sorry for me. I didn't feel deserving of his pity. I didn't feel deserving of his sympathy. I didn't feel deserving of his apology. After everything I had put Logan through, he should be like, "Serves you right!"

"Does your father beat you too?" I asked.

"No, even worse; he doesn't pay attention to me at all," he answered.

Now, I was the one who felt bad for Logan. I never would have guessed that the two of us would have something in common like our daddy issues.

"As awful as it is that your father beats you, at least he pays attention to you. My dad has never made it to a single hockey game of mine," Logan stated.

I couldn't believe that Logan played hockey. I never would have guessed that about him. He seems like the brainiac type. There was a lot I was learning about my roommate. It was really fascinating how different Logan was from my first impression of him.

"What about your mother?" I inquired.

"She's not any better of a parent," Logan replied.

"I'm sorry."

I had no idea how Logan turned out like he did. It sounded like he practically had to raise himself. I doubt his parents had anything to do with the person Logan was today.

"And your mother?" Logan asked.

I realized that this was the first time I had actually talked about this kind of stuff with someone else. It was odd that the first time happened to be with a guy I had bullied and was now roommates with.

"She died when I was three. Car crash," I answered.

"That's horrible," Logan responded.

I picked up on the shift in our conversation. It used to be action-reaction. Now there was no particular rhyme or reason to our talk. Logan no longer only spoke when spoken to. I could already tell that he was starting to feel more comfortable around me. Strangely enough, I was starting to feel more comfortable around him too.

"I have to ask. Why are you wearing that helmet?" I questioned.

He thought about something that made him smile.

"One of my very best friends let me borrow it. If I fall when I have another seizure, it will help protect my head," he explained.

"How many seizures have you had?" I asked.

"Two. They were about a week apart."

So he must have had his first one about a week ago. The one yesterday had to have been his second one.

"Why did you start having seizures anyways?" I inquired.

"Probably from when you punted me in the skull," he answered matter-of-factly.

I automatically felt bad. So really, I had caused _both_ of his seizures. He never would have even had a seizure in the first place if it wasn't for me. I felt extremely guilty.

"You probably hate me, don't you?" I asked.

He scooted even closer to me yet.

"No, not really. I actually think I'm beginning to understand you better," he replied.

"Oh really?" I remarked.

"Yeah. Before, I thought you bullied people just because you were a jerk. No offense. Then, after seeing the way your father treated you in front of me, I now realize that it's all you know. Victims of physical abuse are often doomed to be abusers themselves. It's often difficult for them to break the cycle. That's not to say it's impossible though. It _is_ possible."

I probably should have been furious that Logan was trying to tell me how to act. However, I wasn't. I knew he was right. It's just saying I'm going to break the cycle was one thing. Actually doing it was something else entirely. I didn't know if I could actually do it. Could I break the cycle?

"Hey Logan, why are you here? You don't exactly seem like the delinquent type," I commented.

"I didn't hurt anybody if that's what you're thinking," Logan replied.

Here I thought I was starting to make some progress with Logan. Only, come to find out, that he still didn't trust me completely. I was curious though. Ever since I first saw him in juvenile hall, he didn't seem like he belonged here. If he didn't hurt anyone, then why _was_ he here?

"Why are _you_ here, Sid? I mean your dad's the warden. Couldn't he get you out?" Logan remarked.

"He could, but with all the prison guards here, they're like my personal bodyguards as you've seen. Plus, he gave up on bailing me out a long time ago. He figured it was easier to just leave me in here," I answered.

I got up and went to lie down in my own bed. I was starting to get sleepy. Right on cue, I yawned. I looked over and saw Logan lie down in his bed as well.

"Thanks for the talk. It was…nice," I said.

"Yeah, it was," Logan responded.

I closed my eyes and pretended to fall asleep. I even feigned snoring. I bided my time waiting to hear that Logan was sound asleep himself. I heard him toss and turn a bunch of times. Come to think of it, this was his first night here. He never actually spent the night here last time because he had a seizure before he could go to bed.

I honestly think that part of the reason he was tossing and turning so much was because he didn't trust me enough to fall asleep with me only feet away in the same very prison cell. However, he eventually got to a point where his body was too exhausted, and his eyes just couldn't stay open any longer. I heard him fall into a slumber at long last. He didn't snore, but I could hear his steady breathing as he slept.

I opened my eyes. I draped my feet over the side of my bed. I quietly got out of bed. I looked over and saw that Logan was out like a log still. I tiptoed my way over to his bed.

_You better not fail me again or you will get a beating ten times worse than this! Got it?_

My father's warning was still fresh in my ears. It was almost like he had just said it. My dad wasn't known for his patience. He would be livid if I didn't provide him with some results soon. I was having second thoughts though. After seeing Logan have a seizure, it changed everything. After our talk tonight, I felt like we had found some common ground. Our relationship had progressed into perhaps the early stages of a friendship.

_Victims of physical abuse are often doomed to be abusers themselves. It's often difficult for them to break the cycle. That's not to say it's impossible though. It is possible._

I was at his bedside. I stood over him. I wrapped both of my hands around his throat. His eyes shot open. They were wide with terror. As I felt myself crush Logan's windpipes, he frantically tried to pry my hands off his throat with his hands, but it was to no avail. My grip was way too strong, and he just wasn't strong enough. He kicked his legs futilely. My fingernails started to get a little bit of blood on them from where they had penetrated the delicate skin of Logan's neck.

I had to be careful. I wanted to strangle him until he passed out, but I didn't want to choke him to death. That wasn't what my father had ordered me to do. Logan's head lolled to the side, and his grip slackened completely.

"I'm sorry," I said out loud.

To Be Continued…

**A/N: Who's back to being Public Enemy Number One? Well, I guess no meat loaf for me. Or should I say, "meat LOAF"?**


	28. I Love You

**A/N: I've been kind of moody today, so I don't know how that will affect my writing in this chapter. I guess we'll find out together.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

**Big Time Disaster**

_I Love You_

_Logan's POV_

I was in the visitation room. Sitting across from me were Kendall, James, Carlos, and Camille. They were trying to be discreet about it, but I saw them staring at my neck. I pulled the collar of my orange jump suit up over the scabs on my throat.

"How did you get that?" Carlos asked.

"It's nothing!" I exclaimed straight away.

I didn't want them to worry about me any more than they already did. The absolute last thing they needed to hear was that my roommate, who I actually thought was starting to become my friend, stabbed me in the back and strangled me in my sleep.

I couldn't believe I was such an idiot. I couldn't believe I fell for it. I couldn't believe that I actually trusted him enough to fall asleep in the same prison cell as him. Fool me once, shame on me. Fool me twice…well, there would be no fooling me twice. I can promise you that.

"Did you get in another fight, Logie?" Kendall asked me.

I slammed my fist on the table, startling all four of them. I stood up. Enough was enough. I was sick of them smothering me.

"I said it was nothing! If the four of you are going to be like this, maybe you should just leave!" I said, raising my voice.

They couldn't help me. They couldn't help me last night. They can't help me now. They couldn't help me in the future. I wasn't going to stand by and listen to them make promises that as soon as they left juvie, they wouldn't be able to keep. See, I knew that was what was coming next. It'll probably go something like, 'Everything will be okay,' or, 'We won't let anyone hurt you.'

"Logan, calm down," James pleaded, holding his hands up in front of him palms out.

"Don't tell me what to do, James!" I snapped.

Camille got up from her seat, walked around to my side of the table, and threw her arms around me in a hug. I wouldn't even return her embrace. When she realized this, she pulled back, and looked at me with tear-filled eyes.

"Logan, what's wrong? What have they done to you?" she asked.

Though she was facing me, I wasn't even looking at her anymore. I was looking _past_ her. I picked a spot on the wall, and was staring at it. I couldn't bring myself to look at her. I had seen the tears in her eyes. I knew I was probably the reason they were there. That shamed me to no end.

Kendall got up from his chair. He walked around the table. He turned me around so that I was facing him. He grabbed my chin, and forced me to look at him. I saw the concern in his green eyes.

"Hey! We're all in this together! You can push us away all you want, but we will _not_ turn our backs on you!" Kendall exclaimed.

He was completely oblivious to the fact that he was saying all the wrong things. I shoved him backwards roughly, causing him to fall on his butt. He looked up at me in complete shock.

"Don't touch me!" I warned.

I looked over and saw Carlos gaping at me. I unfastened the helmet on my head, and I chucked it at him. He caught it, but it still knocked the wind out of him.

"You can have your stupid helmet back! It's completely worthless! It's not protecting me at all!" I screamed.

I did an about face, and headed for the exit.

"Guard, take me back to my cell!" I shouted.

"Not so fast!" James called out.

No sooner did I turn around, had he hopped over the table, and wrapped his arms around me in an embrace. I pounded my fists on his back time and time again. His grip would loosen slightly, but then immediately firm back up.

"James, let go of me!" I cried out, tears streaming from my eyes.

As time passed, I pounded him on the back with less and less force until I had stopped altogether. I buried my head in his chest, and cried. He ran his hand through my hair as he gently shushed me. My knees buckled, and I sank to the floor. James dropped to the floor with me, still holding me to him in an embrace.

I couldn't bring myself to look at them—_any_ of them. I had acted like such a jerk. I was so ashamed of myself. Shoving Kendall. Chucking Carlos's helmet at him. Snapping at James. Not hugging Camille back. I was just so incredibly frustrated by everything. I didn't want to stay in this place another minute, let alone another day.

James's t-shirt had to be cold and wet by now, as saturated as it was by my tears. Surely it had to be uncomfortable for him, yet he didn't even shift the slightest bit. He just continued to hold onto me. He wasn't letting go of me.

"Logie?" Kendall said cautiously, kneeling beside me and James.

"I got this, Kendall," James stated.

Wait a second. James and Kendall were _still_ fighting with each other? This has got to be the some sort of record for the longest time the two of them had been mad at each other. I felt James hold tighten around me. He had no intention of letting go of me.

"Stop…fighting…If…you…want…to…be mad at…someone…be mad…at me…" I said through intermittent sobs.

"You heard Logan. What do you say, James? Truce?" Kendall asked.

I was surprised when James actually let go of me. He rose to his feet, and Kendall copied his action. The two of them were literally an inch away from each other's face. I felt Carlos wrap his arms around me in an embrace. I snuggled into his embrace, hoping Carlos knew that was my way of apologizing to him.

"You can't stand it, can you, Kendall? For once, Logan actually came to me instead of you!" James remarked, jabbing his finger hard in Kendall's chest.

"Logan didn't come to you! You grabbed him! If it were up to him, he would've come to me first, not you! You can't stand _that_, can you, James?" Kendall shot back.

I didn't understand why they were fighting about who I came to or would've come to first. I couldn't choose between Kendall and James. Did they _want_ me to choose between them or something? I just wanted them to stop. I needed them. I needed _both_ of them. I would give anything for this to just be some bad dream. I would give anything to wake up in my bed at The Palm Woods, and for none of this to have happened—my seizures, my beatings, getting arrested.

The current predicament caused me to tremble as my body was racked by a second wave of sobs. Carlos rested his chin on the top of my head, while he gently shushed me.

"Will you two knock it off? You're upsetting Logan!" Carlos exclaimed.

A high-pitched scream reverberated off the walls of the visitation room. I looked over in the direction of the scream, and saw Sid holding Camille in front of him, a knife to her throat. The sight caused my blood to boil. My protective instincts started to kick in. I sprang to my feet. My hands were clenched in fists. I felt Carlos tug me on the arm.

"Logan, don't," he whispered to me loud enough so that only I could hear.

Sid gave me a sadistic smirk as he looked over at me. I could see tears streaming down her cheeks. Her eyes were wide with terror. She was trembling like a leaf. I was actually surprised that she didn't accidentally nick herself, she was shaking so violently.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Is this your _girlfriend_, Logan?" Sid taunted.

"Leave her alone, Sid! This is between you and me!" I shouted, with a courage I had no idea I possessed.

Time seemed to stand still. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. James and Kendall had ceased their fighting. All of our eyes were on Sid and his hostage, Camille.

"Logan, don't do anything reckless. We'll handle this…together," Kendall said.

"No! I don't want to risk any of you guys getting hurt either! Like I said, this is between me and Sid!" I exclaimed.

"I'm with Kendall on this, Logan," James stated. "We don't want to risk you getting hurt, Logan."

I looked to my left and right, and found myself flanked by my three best friends. Carlos was to my left. James was to my right. Kendall was to James' right.

"Logan…Help me…" Camille sobbed.

"Put the knife down, Sid. There are four of us, and only one of you. You can't stop us all," Kendall said, his voice remarkably calm given the situation.

Sid grinned. I held my breath as he kept faking us out, making it look like he would slit Camille's throat.

"Yeah, maybe. But I bet I could slit her throat _and _take one or two of you down as well before you could stop me," Sid commented.

"Let her go, Sid!" I yelled.

This couldn't be happening. If only I had paid closer attention. I would've realized that Sid had slipped into the visitation room. I would have realized that somehow he brought a knife in with him. I would have realized that there was a reason Camille had been so silent throughout the fight between Kendall and James.

This didn't even make sense. Sid got his orders from his dad, who in turn got his orders from Camille's dad. Why would Camille's dad want any harm to come to his daughter? How would that help him to win custody of her? Or did he think that the best way to hurt me would be by hurting his daughter? If so, what kind of father would do that to their little girl?

"So then, who wants to be first?" Sid asked, looking at the four of us.

Kendall made a beeline for Sid. I guess he figured that since he was the leader, it was his duty to be first. I wasn't just going to stand by and watch anything bad happen to Camille _or _Kendall. He may be taller than me, but I was faster than Kendall. I was the fastest one of the four of us. I took off running, and pushed Kendall down as I passed him.

"Logan, no!" Carlos shouted.

I heard the sound of shuffling feet as James and Carlos no doubt took off after me, but it was already too late. They wouldn't be able to stop me, and now, neither could Kendall. I didn't care though. The only thing that mattered to me was Camille's safety and the safety of my best friends. It didn't matter what happened to me so long as they were safe.

Sid threw Camille at me. I caught her in my arms. Her back was to him. I saw him lunge forward with his knife. He was going to stab Camille in the back literally just as he had stabbed me in the back figuratively. Not if I had anything to say about it.

"Camille, look out!" I yelled.

I quickly spun her around, so that it was my back to Sid. I felt the knife lodge itself in between my shoulder blades. It was out as soon as it was in though, as Sid pulled it right out. I let out a gurgled gasp. A small stream of blood leaked out of the corner of my mouth. I looked down, and saw that the stab wound had been a through and through. There was a pool of blood that covered my sternum, turning my orange jump suit _red_ orange.

Standing upright was suddenly the most difficult thing to do. I felt myself falling, but before I could hit the floor, I felt a pair of strong arms catch me. James was sitting on the ground, cradling my head in his lap. Out of the four of us, he was always the _second_ fastest. It was no surprise that he was the first one to reach me.

I looked up and saw four pairs of worried eyes hovering over me. I wanted to say something to them—anything to reassure them, but I couldn't. It was hard enough keeping my eyes open. It was hard enough just breathing. Each breath was harder to take than the one before it. As I felt my life force being drained from me, I saw something on the floor. I put all my focus, all the energy I had left into reaching out and pointing at it—it was Carlos' helmet.

Carlos saw what I was pointing at, and knew what I wanted. He crawled on his hands and knees over to his helmet. He quickly brought it over to me, and placed it on top of my head before fastening the strap.

Camille was hysterical. She covered her mouth with shaking hands as she wept. For some reason, she had been the target unless…unless her father counted on me sacrificing myself for her. I wanted to hold her. I wanted her to stop crying. I didn't like seeing her cry. I didn't want her to blame herself. This wasn't her fault. None of this had been her fault. If I could do this all over again, I wouldn't have done anything differently.

"Logan, hang in there, buddy. You're going to be okay. You _have_ to be! I can't lose you! Us short guys have to stick together!" Carlos remarked, tears rolling down his face.

Leave it to Carlos to be optimistic at a time like this. I knew Carlos was wrong. I wasn't going to be okay. There was nothing he could do about it. Even so, I figured wearing Carlos' helmet was worth one last try regardless. Even if this was the end of me, at least I would pass wearing the most prized possession of one of my very best friends.

I was cold, _so_ cold. I knew that I didn't have much time left. I struggled. I fought to hang on. I knew I was losing a _lot_ of blood, and _fast_.

"Logan, stay with us! You stay with us, you hear me? You can't…_die_! Who am I going to give relationship advice to? I don't think I ever apologized for this, but remember back when I called your dream of being a doctor stupid? Well, I was wrong. It wasn't a stupid dream. The only thing stupid was me. If you hadn't driven me to that audition back in Minnesota, none of this would have ever happened. You helped make my dream come true, and for that I am eternally grateful," James said.

I wanted to tell James that he was welcome. I wanted to tell James that I had already forgiven him long ago. I wanted to tell James that he needed to make things right with Kendall. I'd hate for the two of them to lose each other. When I saw James start to cry as well, I wanted him to stop. James shouldn't cry.

I was barely conscious of the fact that Kendall had been on his cell phone calling 911 this whole time. He finished right when I looked over at him. I could tell that he was trying to be strong for me. He had this silly idea in his head that just because he was the leader, he couldn't cry.

"Logie, why did you shove me out of the way? I could've stopped Sid! I could've saved Camille! That way, you wouldn't have been stabbed! You have to fight, Logie! You've been fighting all along, and I know you probably don't have much fight left in you, but you _have_ to keep fighting! I can't live life without you! Who's going to help me keep these two goofballs from getting into _too much_ trouble?" Kendall asked, gesturing towards James and Carlos.

I felt Camille leave a trail of kisses until she reached my lips. She kissed me so passionately that it was like she was trying to breathe life into me. I felt her place her hand over the knife wound as though that would stop it from bleeding out. I regretted never being the one to kiss her. She had always been the one kissing me.

"Logan…what did I…say about…letting me…protect you? I love you! You can't…leave me! What am I…supposed to…tell my mom? You were supposed…to be her son-in-law…someday…remember?" Camille said, her words broken up by her sobs.

It broke my heart seeing her cry so much. It shouldn't be humanly possible for anyone to cry as much as she was crying. I had come to terms with the fact that I was going to die. At least I could die happy. Why? Because Camille had finally told me that she loves me.

"Camille…I…love…I…love…"I said, but I never could finish. My eyes shut, and I welcomed the darkness with open arms.

To Be Continued…

**A/N: Okay, so two things: 1) I actually cried as I was writing this, and 2) It's official; I'm a dead man!**


	29. You Can't Get Rid of Me That Easy

**A/N: Is there a Witness Protection Program except for people who aren't witnesses, but people who might soon become victims of a crime? If so, sign me up for THAT! After the death threats I have received, I need some sort of protection. So, this chapter is dedicated to my Fan Fiction bride-to-be, Miss Fenway, because today is our Fan Fiction Wedding. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Big Time Rush, and after some of the things that have happened in this story, you should be extremely glad. **

**Big Time Disaster**

_You Can't Get Rid of Me That Easy_

_James' POV_

"Logan? Logan! Wake up! Please wake up! This can't be happening!" I cried out, my vision seriously compromised by my tears.

I pressed my ear to his chest, and desperately tried to hear the pitter patter of his heartbeat, which would mean that Logan was still very much alive. He had to be. This was just some sick, practical joke that he was trying to play on all of us. It wasn't the slightest bit funny either. As much as I wished that I could hear something, I didn't.

I now had Logan's blood all over my ear and the side of my face, but I could care less. I started shaking his lifeless body in a last ditch effort to get him to wake up. His limp form flopped around like a fish, but nothing changed; he still wouldn't open his eyes.

His complexion was pallid—_too_ pallid. There wasn't the slightest flush of color on his face. This was just a bad dream. Yeah, that's it. It was just some awful nightmare. I closed my eyes and pinched myself, hoping I would wake up and see that Logan was still very much alive. I opened my eyes, and nothing had changed. I still was holding a too-still Logan in my arms, and Camille was still holding her hand over his heart that was no longer beating.

Camille started pounding her fists futilely on Logan's chest. It was clear to me what she was trying to do; she was trying to get him to wake up, or react to her hitting him. Nothing. He just continued to lay prone.

"Damn it, Logan! Open your eyes!" she wailed.

Seeing Camille lose the love of her life broke my heart even more than it already was. This wasn't fair! None of this was fair! Logan was one of the good guys! He and Camille were supposed to get married, have kids, and grow old together!

I felt someone put their hand on my shoulder, and I heard Kendall's voice.

"The EMTs are here. Let go of Logan, James. Let the EMTs do their job," he instructed.

I furiously shook my head left to right repeatedly, all the while muttering, "No," over and over again.

"James, he's gone. Logan's dead," Kendall said.

"Don't touch me!" I yelled. Kendall immediately removed his hand from my shoulder. "How can you say that, Kendall? He's not dead! I won't accept it!"

I felt Kendall and Carlos grab me and pull me away from Logan. I started to become hysterical. I kicked, thrashed, and squirmed.

"No! Stop! What are you doing? Logan needs me! He needs me!" I cried out.

I watched helplessly as three EMTs knelt beside Logan. One of them ripped open the fabric over his chest, exposing it. I saw another one rub two shock paddles together.

"Clear," a female EMT said.

I watched in horror as Logan's body jerked upwards suddenly and violently before gravity took its course, and his body dropped back down to the floor. One of the male EMTs placed two fingers to Logan's throat.

"Nothing. Again. Come on, kid," the EMT said to Logan.

The other male EMT rubbed the defibrillator together again, before placing it on Logan's bare chest.

"Clear," the female EMT stated.

Once again, Logan's body was suspended in midair from the electricity coursing through him. Then, he fell to the floor a second time. Again, the male EMT checked for a pulse. I held my breath. I silently chanted, "Please let this work!"

"Still nothing. One more time," the male EMT ordered.

I watched as the EMT rubbed the paddles together again a third time. Then he placed the defibrillator on Logan's body again.

"Clear," the female EMT said.

Logan's back bowed due to the voltage. He then slumped to the ground immediately afterwards. The same EMT checked for a pulse. Then, he looked at the watch on his wrist.

"Time of death, 9:11 a.m. Cause of death, exsanguination," he announced.

"No!" Camille shrieked.

"James," Carlos whimpered, wrapping his arms securely around my waist, and burying his face in my chest…just like Logan used to do. I could feel Carlos' tears start to soak my t-shirt.

I was covered in Logan's blood. My t-shirt, my hands, my arms, my jeans, my ear, the side of my face. It was everywhere. My hands balled up in fists, and my entire body shook as I sobbed uncontrollably.

I noticed the EMTs were draping a white sheet over Logan, covering his entire body. I kept thinking how Logan had always been claustrophobic. Now he had a sheet over him, suffocating him. I kept thinking how he couldn't breathe with that sheet over him like it was.

"What are you doing? He's claustrophobic! You're suffocating him! He can't breathe like that!" I shouted, the unbearable sadness extending into my voice.

"James, he can't breathe at all. He's gone," Kendall said glumly.

I floored him with a punch to the face. I didn't care how Carlos had a frightened look on his face as he looked up at me with watery eyes. I didn't care that Kendall now had a bloody nose.

"Will you stop saying that already? You know, none of this would have even happened if it wasn't for _you_! You kept talking about how we needed to take care of Sid together. Then, you turn around and go after him yourself. Logan got stabbed because he didn't want to see you get hurt. This is all your fault, Kendall!" I screamed.

Then, I rounded on the three EMTs who were wheeling in a stretcher and packing up the defibrillator.

"You! What are you doing? Try it again!" I demanded gesturing towards the defibrillator with my head.

"Sweetie, there's no point. I'm sorry," the female EMT replied.

Camille bolted up to her feet. She was so overcome by grief; her body was so racked by sobs that she nearly toppled over from the sudden movement.

"What do you mean you're sorry? He can't be gone! You're supposed to save him! Why aren't you saving him?" she shrieked.

Kendall, Carlos, Camille and I watched in sheer disbelief as they loaded Logan onto a stretcher, and strapped him in. Then they wheeled him out of the room. How could this be happening? It was only minutes ago that I was standing beside Logan, and now he was…now he…was…

XXXXX

The car ride back to The Palm Woods was eerily silent. Everyone was lost in his or her own thoughts. Everyone was thinking back to their fondest memories of Logan. Camille was riding shotgun. Mrs. Knight was driving. Carlos, Kendall, and I were in the back seat. Carlos was sitting in between me and Kendall.

Mrs. Knight didn't know what to say to us. Logan was like a second son to her too. Great! Now I'm talking about Logan in the past tense again! Why am I doing that? He's not gone. I don't care what Kendall or the EMTs or anyone says! I refuse to believe that Logan's gone! The EMTs just made some sort of mistake. Yeah, that's what it was. Mistakes happen, right?

"I'm sor—" Mrs. Knight started to say looking at us in the rearview mirror.

My eyes darkened as I narrowed them at her, and she didn't dare finish that sentence. Carlos was laying his head on my lap. He hadn't stopped crying ever since…ever since…yeah…since…_that_. Tears continued to stream down my face as well. I looked over at Kendall. I noticed that he wasn't crying. In fact, I hadn't seen him shed a single tear throughout all of this. Why not? Didn't he care about what happened to Logan? Didn't it make him sad? What kind of friend did that make him?

Logan hadn't liked it when Kendall and I were fighting. _Forgive him, James. Please? For me? James, Kendall, please don't fight!_ Logan's words rang in my ears like I had just heard them. I already missed the sound of his voice. I struggled to hold on to every word he had ever said to me just so that I wouldn't forget the sound of his voice.

"I'm sorry, Logan. I can't do it. I can't forgive him," I said to myself.

Carlos poked his head up at the sound of my voice. He looked at me quizzically.

"Huh? Did you say something, James?" Carlos asked, his voice nasally.

"It's nothing. Lay back down," I said to Carlos. He all too willingly obliged.

XXXXX

We were all seated at the dinner table. Well, all…five…of us. Mrs. Knight, Katie, Kendall, Carlos, and me. There was a sixth chair at the table. I couldn't help but think about who should have been sitting in that chair with us. I felt some tear spills out from my eyes at the thought. It was Fish Stick Friday too. Logan _loved_ Fish Stick Friday…with tots! I frowned, and pushed my untouched plate of food forward.

"Mrs. Knight, may I be excused? I lost my appetite," I said.

Mrs. Knight frowned. "Okay," she replied.

Frankly, no matter what she had said, I was going to leave the dinner table anyways. I couldn't do it. I couldn't just go on with my life without Logan. It wasn't fair! I couldn't just pretend like…I didn't even know what I was saying. I barely made it out of Apartment 2J before I just collapsed to the floor, and started crying my eyes out. I pounded my fist on the carpeted floor over and over again.

"James?" I heard Carlos say. I picked up on the sadness in his voice.

"What are you doing out here?" I asked.

Carlos sat on the floor, and gathered me in his arms. He held my face to his shoulder, and the two of us cried. I couldn't help but think that the way he was holding me to him was how he used to hold Logan to him when he was sad.

"I lost my appetite too. Besides, I wanted to make sure you were okay," Carlos answered.

"I'm not okay, Carlos! How can I be? Why do you keep following me around anyways? Knock it off already!" I snapped at Carlos.

It was true. Ever since we had got back to The Palm Woods, Carlos had been following me around like a lost puppy. If I went to the bedroom, so did he. If I went to the living room, so did he. If I went to the bathroom, he patiently waited outside the door for me, and was still there when I came out.

I noticed his bottom lip quiver. "You don't mean that, do you, James?" he asked me with puppy dog eyes.

I instantly felt bad for snapping at Carlos. He and I had always been really tight. This shouldn't change that. For the first time, I noticed something. Carlos was wearing a helmet again, but it wasn't his; it was Logan's. I recognized the familiar white helmet.

"What are you wearing? Take that off!" I exclaimed, grabbing for the helmet.

Carlos scooted backwards, and wouldn't let me grab it. Why was Carlos doing this to me? That was Logan's helmet. I didn't want to see it. I definitely didn't want Carlos to wear it. Was he _trying_ to make me feel worse than I already felt?

"Stop it, James! I _want_ to wear it! It helps me still feel close to Logan," he paused to sniffle. "Besides, it's only fair. He's wearing mine. Who knows? Maybe if I wear his, he'll protect me."

A part of me wanted to tell Carlos that was the most ridiculous idea ever. Most of me though found Carlos' naivety to be adorable. It was one of the reasons he was viewed as one of the babies of the group. Well, him and…Logan. My eyes stung with a fresh wave of tears.

"It even still smells like him," Carlos said sadly.

"Really? Can I see?" I asked. I was desperate to hold onto everything Logan from the sound of his voice to his scent.

Carlos unfastened the strap, and took off the helmet before passing it to me. I held it under my nose, and took a big whiff. I smelled Axe shampoo and Axe hair styling putty—Logan wasn't a Cuda fan like me—and sweat; Logan's sweat. I remembered fondly how he would always say he was weird because he didn't think he sweated as much as other guys. Smelling his helmet, he was right. I could make out the aroma of sweat, but it wasn't overpowering or anything.

I handed Carlos Logan's helmet. He put it back on his head, and fastened the strap.

"James, what do we do now?" he asked me.

It was funny in an ironic sort of way. Carlos looked to me for guidance and direction much like Logan used to look to Kendall for guidance and direction. I hated this. Everything reminded me in some way of Logan. I wanted to remember him and everything, don't get me wrong. It's just why did remembering him have to be so painful? I shouldn't have to remember him at all. He should be right here with me!

"I don't know, Carlos. I don't know," I replied.

At that moment, the door to Apartment 2J opened, and Mrs. Knight poked her head out.

"Boys, can I speak to you in the living room for a minute. I need to tell you something, and you'll want to hear this," she said, even going so far as to give us a small smile.

I doubted I wanted to hear anything that she said to me. Wow, I'm starting to sound like Logan…The only thing I _wanted_ to hear was that Logan was alive. That was impossible. I watched the EMTs try and fail to revive him.

I felt Carlos grab my hand, and pull me to my feet. He excitedly went inside, dragging me behind him.

We sat on the orange couch the same way we had rode in the car—Carlos sitting between me and Kendall.

"So, I just got off the phone with Dr. Taylor," Mrs. Knight said.

Kendall, Carlos, and I all exchanged confused glances with each other. Dr. Taylor had been Logan's doctor at the hospital. Why was Kendall's mom talking with him?

"Apparently, when the coroner went to perform his autopsy on Logan, he noticed something remarkable," she explained.

The three of us were literally on the edge of our seats, leaning forward in anticipation. Why was she dragging this story out? The suspense was killing me.

"The coroner noticed Logan's finger twitch. At first, he thought he was seeing things, but then he saw his finger twitch a second time. So, he went to get some doctors," Mrs. Knight said.

For the first time since Logan had been stabbed, I felt…hope.

"He's alive. He's on life-support, but guys, Logan is alive," Mrs. Knight told us.

"See? It's all because he was wearing my helmet! I told you that baby would protect him!" Carlos remarked.

Kendall and I both playfully shoved Carlos. Of course, he would go and try to take all the credit for Logan surviving this horrific ordeal. I then remembered something Logan had said before.

_You can't get rid of me that easy._

To Be Continued…

**A/N: *hijacks Carlos' watch and waves it in front of your eyes like a pendulum* You are not mad at me! YOU ARE NOT MAD AT ME!**


	30. A New Target and an Old One

**A/N: So now, you all love me? Ha! I knew Carlos' watch would do the trick! Speaking of Carlos…never mind…you'll find out soon enough…Oh, so 'Big Time Girlfriends' a.k.a. the bane of my existence is two days away! woohoo. I'm so not enthused that I didn't even capitalize "woohoo" or give it an exclamation mark…**

**Disclaimer: We've already been through this. I don't anything, and you are all thanking your lucky stars for that…**

**Big Time Disaster**

_A New Target and an Old One_

_Mr. Sanders' POV_

"Is it done?" I asked.

"_It's done,"_ the voice on the other end of the phone answered.

"And Sid?"

"_I gave him my car keys and he fled town."_

An enormous grin spread across my face. I love it when a plan comes together perfectly. The best part of all was that I didn't even have to get my hands dirty; I just let everyone else do all the dirty work. No one would be able to pin any of this on me. My hands were clean. I made damn sure of that.

"That's what I wanted to hear. Now if you'll excuse me, I think I'll pay my daughter a visit," I said, before hanging up.

Camille would be devastated. She loved Logan. Now that he was gone though, I could have my little girl back. Now, I could have her all to myself. If Camille's mom got in the way of that, I might just have to deal with her the same way I was forced to deal with Logan.

Who do you think left Logan that headless, bloodied, Care Bear? Why, yours truly, of course. Who do you think called Logan shortly after? None other than yours truly. Who do you think put the hit on Logan? You guessed it; yours truly.

See, like I said, everything went according to plan. Camille was never the target. I knew Logan would do everything in his power to protect her, even if it meant sacrificing himself. I fully anticipated Logan would save her. It was a shame he had to die. He was so young. It almost makes me want to shed a tear. Okay, not really.

Really though, Camille brought this all on herself. I warned her that something bad would happen to Logan if she didn't do what I wanted her to do. I told her no matter where Logan was, I would be able to get to him. I warned her that anything that happened to her precious Logan was on her hands. Did she listen to me? No. That ought to teach her.

XXXXX

The door opened and I saw my soon-to-be ex-wife.

"Hello Susan," I said.

"Goodbye," she replied, before trying to slam the door in my face.

I caught the door before it shut, and shoved my way inside. She warily backed up a couple of steps. She wouldn't take her eyes off of me. I wondered what that was all about.

"How could you do that? To your own daughter! You know how much she loved Logan!" my soon-to-be ex-wife exclaimed.

I chuckled before tilting my head. "What did I do exactly?" I asked.

"You know very well what you did! You had Logan killed!"

I tried my hardest to keep a straight face, but it was so difficult. Was she serious? That's what made it so funny to me. I really think she was.

"Logan died? That's awful," I said in the best fake sad tone I could manage.

"You're unbelievable! How did you get like this? You're nothing like the man I fell in love with all those years ago!" she exclaimed.

I clutched my heart in mock pain. Then I started laughing uncontrollably.

"_Dad!_" Camille said, with venom in her voice.

"Hello, sweetie!" I replied.

She stormed her way over to me, and slapped me hard across the right cheek. I could see the hatred in her eyes. I guess she wouldn't be testifying against her mom after all. Look at the way she was acting. All over one boy. Talk about ridiculous!

"I know it was you! It's too much of a coincidence that all this bad stuff happened to Logan after you threatened me. That's how I know it was you! Now he's dead! I loved him Dad, and you had him killed!" she yelled, tears streaming down her face.

"I'm sorry, but was I the one holding the knife?" I asked.

"Ha! See? How could you know Logan died of a stab wound unless you were in on it?"

I quickly realized my slip up, but it was only a minor setback. I just needed to do a little improvising on the fly.

"Are you serious? It's all over the news," I answered.

"I don't believe you! I _know_ you had something to do with Logan's death!" she exclaimed.

"Good luck proving that."

She couldn't prove it either. I think deep down, she knew it. I certainly knew it. I had covered my tracks so well that there was absolutely no way this could be traced back to me. The only person who knew about my connection to Sid and his father was Logan, and now he was dead.

"You don't have an axe to hold over my head anymore, _father_! You can't blackmail me to do what you want anymore," Camille stated.

I laughed hysterically. Oh, this was rich.

"You're joking, right? Bad things could still happen to what's the Hispanic kid's name? Carlos? Ooh! Or maybe that tall pretty boy. James, is it? Then, of course, there's always my lovely wife," I said.

I reached over and caressed the side of Susan's face. She cringed at the physical contact.

"Leave them alone!" Camille warned.

"Oh, I will once you agree to testify against your mother in court," I replied.

I saw Camille and her mother exchange worried looks. I loved holding all the cards. This was almost too easy. It wasn't even a challenge.

"Wait a second. You just basically admitted you had something to do with all those bad things that happened to Logan," Camille said.

This wasn't good. Two slip ups in such a short span of time. If I wasn't more careful, I could still be held accountable for my actions.

"Hey, I didn't say that I'd do anything bad to Carlos, James, or your mother," I replied.

"Then who…? Oh my God!" Camille exclaimed, covering her mouth.

I saw the realization in her eyes. Logan wasn't the only one who knew of my connection to Sid and his father anymore. Such a pity. She's my own daughter. She's my own flesh and blood. I just can't have anyone knowing about that though.

Before she could say another word, I was standing behind her with one of my hands clamped over her mouth. My other arm was wrapped around her head in a headlock.

"So here's what's going to happen. You're not going to say another word about this to anyone. Not now. Not ever. You're going to forget all about this. If you don't, I swear I _will_ snap your neck! I don't care if you are my daughter!" I said menacingly.

Susan let out a high-pitched scream. She covered her mouth with her hand.

"Martin, what are you doing? That's your daughter!" she cried out.

I felt my hand start to get wet. I looked down, and saw that it was from Camille's tears. She was crying. I could tell she was terrified of me by the way she was shaking. She should be terrified. If she's learned anything from this, it's that I don't make empty threats. If I make a threat, I follow through with it.

"So then, I'll ask you again. Will you testify against your mother in court?" I asked.

I looked over and saw Camille's mother silently beg her not to. Would she rather someone gets hurt just because she wanted to live with Camille? If that's how she felt, that could be arranged. I would personally see to it.

She nodded her head up and down, and I let go of her. She ran over to her mother, who held her in her arms as the two of them cried. They should cherish the time they had together. After the custody hearing, the two of them wouldn't be spending any more time together because I'll have full custody.

"Good girl," I commented.

Speaking of that Hispanic kid, the door swung open, and there he was standing in the doorway. Something was different about him though. Then I noticed he was wearing a different colored helmet than he normally did. The one he had on now was white. It looked like he was going to say something, but once he saw me, he hesitated.

"Camille, can I speak to you outside for a second?" he asked.

Camille detached herself from her mother, and followed Carlos outside, shutting the door behind them. I hated this. I wanted to know what the two of them were talking about. Whatever it was, they wanted to keep it from me. Why else would they talk in private? I saw the look Carlos gave me when he saw me. He didn't trust me.

I was starting to get a very bad feeling about Carlos. I had a feeling I would need to keep an eye on him. If Camille didn't do _exactly_ what I wanted, I think I know who my new target would be. I highly doubt that white helmet of his will be able to save him either.

I didn't like being out of the loop. Then, I had a horrible thought. What if Camille was telling Carlos about how I was connected to Sid and Sid's father? What if Camille told Carlos that I played a role in Logan's death? I couldn't allow that. It was bad enough that Camille knew. Carlos couldn't know too. Then again, Camille _did_ promise me that she wouldn't tell anyone. For her sake and the sake of everyone she cares about, she better keep her promise. If not, there would be dire consequences.

I went to leave, but Susan stood in front of the door, blocking the exit.

"Out of my way!" I exclaimed.

"No! Let the two of them talk. Whatever they wanted to talk about is none of your business. You don't always have to know everything," she said.

Was she serious? Was she being defiant? When did she grow a backbone? If she had grown a backbone sooner, then maybe we wouldn't have gotten a divor—no, not even then. I clenched my hands into fists.

"Go ahead! Hit me! Just know that if you do, a judge is not going to give you custody of Camille. You won't even get visitation rights," she stated.

As much as I hated to admit it, she had a point. If I came across as violent, neither the judge nor the jury would award me custody of Camille even if she did say that she wanted to live with me.

"Step aside," I said nicely this time.

After what seemed like forever, she did as I asked. I opened the door, and was furious when I saw that there was no one outside in the hallway. I started running for the parking lot. If I could catch up to them in the parking lot, I could see where they were headed.

Just as I got out to the parking lot, I saw Carlos and Camille climb in Kendall's mom's car. Then I saw them pull out of the parking lot. I quickly got in my car, and followed them, making sure to stay at least four or five cars behind them, hoping they wouldn't notice that I was trailing them.

I pulled out my cell phone. I dialed one of my contacts.

"Yes, I need you to do something for me. I need you to find out all you can about a Carlos Garcia. He's sixteen years old. He's a member of Big Time Rush. But I need to know more than that. Dig up any information you can about his family members, school records, anything you can, and get back to me as soon as you can. I just know that kid's going to be a problem for me," I said, before hanging up.

Kendall's mom pulled into the hospital parking lot. Wait a second. Why would they be going to the hospital? I tried to think back to who was in the car with Camille and Carlos. There was Kendall's mom of course. I couldn't really get a good look at any of the other passengers though. However, as I watched them climb out of the vehicle, I saw who the other two passengers were—Kendall and James. Who were they visiting at the hospital then?

I carefully trailed them, making sure that I wasn't seen. I lost them though when they got in the elevators. I had no idea what floor they were going to. Then, I had a brilliant idea. It was a long shot, but it was worth a try.

I went to the third floor of the hospital. This is the same floor Logan's hospital room was in when he stayed here. I quickly found Room 307, and peeked my head in the window. The room was occupied. Sure enough, there was Mrs. Knight, Kendall, James, Carlos, and Camille. The sixth occupant in the room is who surprised me the most. Lying in the hospital room, connected to life-support was none other than Logan.

I started to leave the hospital, pulling out my cell phone in the process. How was this even possible? I thought Sid was supposed to kill Logan? Sure, Logan was on life-support, but he wasn't dead! He was supposed to be dead!

The kid really was like an annoying cockroach! Every time he got knocked down, he got right back up. Just when I thought he was down and out, I find out he's not. He had been beaten twice. He had two seizures. He was stabbed with a knife. Through all of that, he persevered. How is that even possible?

"_Hello?"_ a voice answered.

"It's me. We've got a problem," I replied.

To Be Continued…

**A/N: This is the part where all you Carlos fans give me death threats. This is also the part where all you Logan fans give me death threats. This is also the part where I hide, so with that being said…*hides***


	31. Closer to the Truth

**A/N: Haha, now you all hate me! You love me. You hate me. Make up your mind already! Hey, don't blame me. Blame Carlos. He had to go and be my second favorite character and everything, and since I can't do much to Logan anymore…As you can see, being one of my favorite characters is NOT a good thing…**

**Disclaimer: Thanks to all the letters and e-mails you all sent to Nickelodeon, I will never own Big Time Rush. Traitors…**

**Big Time Disaster**

_Closer to the Truth_

_Carlos' POV_

When I first heard that Logan was alive, I guess I thought that meant that he was awake, and we could talk to him, and stuff. I was disappointed to find out that wasn't the case. He wasn't awake. We could talk to him, but he couldn't talk back to us. Besides, he might not even be able to hear anything we say to him. He was just lying there. How was that alive?

I had always been the shortest one of the group. However, Logan had always been the lightest of the group. Seeing him in a hospital bed somehow made him look even smaller and even more vulnerable than normal. Not to mention that he was pale. He had always been pale, but he looked so pale it had to be unhealthy.

We had all reacted to Logan's death in different ways.

Kendall was like a rock. He kept all of his emotions in check. On the surface, it seemed like he didn't care, like he wasn't affected by any of this. I knew better though. He was afraid of giving into his emotions, he was afraid of crying, because he was afraid of what the rest of us would think. He and Logan had always been really close though. I knew this was tearing him up inside.

James was so angry at practically everyone. He basically blamed everyone but himself for what happened to Logan. Well, that's not really true. He didn't blame me either for some reason. He blamed Kendall because Logan got hurt trying to protect him. He blamed Camille because Logan got hurt trying to protect her. As much as he may not have admitted it, he blamed Logan for trying to be a hero in the first place.

Camille was a completely different person. She used to have a flare for drama. Not anymore. Anymore she was just sad. She cried a lot, probably more than the rest of us. She was in a difficult situation. On the one hand she was eternally grateful to Logan for saving her life. On the other hand, she blamed herself for him getting hurt in the first place. Well, she blamed her father too. She was convinced that he had something to do with Logan's attempted murder. I like the sound of that: _attempted_ murder; it wasn't successful, much to my relief.

I wasn't the same anymore either. I don't think you can go through something like this, and then come out of it the same person. I wasn't my happy-go-lucky self. It felt…_wrong_…to be happy right now. Besides, there wasn't really much of anything to be happy about. The one thing I thought I could be happy about—Logan being alive after all—turned out to be a letdown. The only reason he was breathing was because of the life-support machine he was hooked up to. The only reason his heart was beating was because of the life-support machine he was hooked up to. Like I said before, how alive is that?

Before Kendall's mom told us that Logan was alive, the worst part was watching the news story about what happened. My eyes brimmed with tears as I recalled that.

_Flashback_

Kendall, James, and I were sitting on the couch in the living room. The television was on, but it was just background noise. We weren't really paying attention to it. We were too depressed to do anything but just sit around. That's when we saw it. A picture of Logan flashed on the television screen.

"Turn it up," I don't even know who said that, or why they said it, but they did.

Someone, I don't know who, picked up the television remote, and turned up the volume so that it was background noise no longer.

"This just in, sixteen year old Logan Mitchell, a member of the up and coming boy band, Big Time Rush, died today of a stab wound in a local juvenile detention center," the female news anchor announced.

"We'll have more for you on this story on tonight's ten o'clock news. Now, for sports…" the male news anchor said.

James stood up from the couch in a huff. He grabbed the remote, turned the television off, and then chucked the remote at the television screen. The back of the remote came off, and the batteries were strewn all over the carpet.

"That's it? They barely said anything about Logan, and then they hurry up and talk about _sports_? He deserves so much better than that!" James remarked, before running off to his room.

"James," I said, holding out my hand, but he was already gone.

Kendall and I heard James slam his bedroom door shut, and lock it behind him.

_End Flashback_

I looked over and saw Camille resting her head on Logan's chest. It was like she was listening to his heart beat or something. Like she couldn't believe it was actually beating unless she heard it for herself. Tears were streaming down her face, and she was holding one of his hands in hers.

I was sitting beside Camille. Kendall and James wouldn't. James was sitting on the opposite side of Logan's hospital bed. Kendall and his mom were sitting at the foot of the bed. I thought back to how Kendall and James didn't even want to tell Camille that Logan was alive. It was one thing the two of them actually agreed on.

_Flashback_

After Kendall's mom told us that Logan was still alive, we immediately scrambled for the door. None of us could believe it. We were all so happy. Who ever knew we _could_ be happy again? We had no idea how Logan managed to survive the stabbing, but somehow he did. Really though, we shouldn't be so surprised. He's Logan. He never ceases to amaze us.

I stopped in my tracks, causing both Kendall and James to bump into me, nearly toppling all three of us.

"What about Camille? Shouldn't we tell her Logan's alive?" I asked.

"Absolutely not!" James exclaimed.

"I agree with James! Remember when she failed to tell us Logan was taken back to juvie, and the three of us thought he had died? I do. This is payback," Kendall commented.

I remembered that day too. My hands immediately went to rub my eyelids, even though there weren't bandages there anymore. I was stunned that Kendall and James were even agreeing with each other as much as they have been fighting with each other.

"Besides, it's her fault Logan got stabbed in the first place!" James remarked.

"I thought it was mine," Kendall stated, looking at James in disbelief.

"Oh, you're to blame too!"

I let out a frustrated sigh. Great, now they were fighting again.

"Boys! Enough! Now, do you want to go see Logan or not?" Mrs. Knight asked.

She didn't need to ask any of us twice. We rushed out of the door. We were all too impatient to take the elevator, so we headed for the staircase. After we went down one flight of stairs, I stopped.

"I forgot something in my room. Go ahead and wait for me in the car, and I'll be right out," I said.

The three of them didn't even bother to question me. They just went out to the parking lot. I hadn't forgotten anything in my room. I was going to tell Camille that Logan was alive, and ask her to come with us to the hospital. I think it's what Logan would want me to do.

_End Flashback_

I looked over and saw James take Logan's other hand in his own. As angry as he was at Logan, he couldn't stop the tears from coming.

"Oh Logan, you're too selfless for your own good," James said.

I saw Camille raise her head, and glare daggers at James, tears continuing to stream down her face.

"Oh, so you rather I got stabbed instead of Logan?" Camille asked, offended.

"Now that you mention it, yeah," James answered.

I slapped my forehead. Now James and Camille were fighting. Without Logan, we were falling apart. He was like the glue that held us together.

"Hey! I didn't ask Logan to sacrifice himself for me!" Camille exclaimed.

"Really? Then what was, 'Logan…Help me…' all about? If you weren't so helpless and needy…" James retorted.

"I beg your pardon!"

I stood up from my chair.

"Stop it! I'm so sick of this! Kendall and James are fighting. James and Camille are fighting. Kendall and Camille are fighting. I can't take this anymore! If something doesn't change…" I started to say.

Then, I thought I saw someone look in through the window of the room. I didn't get a good look at the visitor before he disappeared from view, but I thought it looked like Camille's dad. What would he be doing here? He was hardly Logan's biggest fan.

I left the room to investigate. I barely heard James call out to me, "Carlos, wait." For all they knew, I was leaving the room because I was upset. As I took off after Mr. Sanders, I could make out one side of a phone conversation he was having.

"_It's me. We've got a problem._"

I may not be Logan smart, but I could still put two and two together. I now knew that Camille's dad was somehow connected to what happened to Logan. That's probably why he came to visit him. He had probably heard that Logan was still alive, and he had to come see for himself. He was probably none too pleased that the job didn't get finished.

He got in the elevator, and turned around. As the elevator door was closing, he saw me. The way he looked at me sent a chill down my spine. I hadn't been able to catch up to him in time, but he probably now knew that I had been following him. He probably now knew that I had overheard his phone conversation. I started to become scared for my own safety. If I was right, and Camille's dad had something to do with Logan getting stabbed, then what would he do to me?

So if Camille's dad had something to do with Logan getting stabbed, then he had to be connected to Sid somehow, but how? Who was Mr. Sanders talking to on the phone then? Sid? Wait a second. If Camille's dad was here at the hospital, then who's to say that this wasn't his first time coming to the hospital? I remembered how someone had left Logan that headless Care Bear and then called him shortly after saying, "Found you. Did you get my present?" Come to think of it, no one ever did find out who left Logan that Care Bear. What if it was Camille's dad?

I turned around and collided into someone. Before I could fall to the floor, a pair of strong arms caught me.

"Carlos, are you okay, buddy?" James asked me. "It looks like you've just seen a ghost."

"Go back inside, James. I have to check something out," I said.

James had a firm hold on me.

"What is it, Carlos? What do you have to check out?" he inquired.

I furiously shook my head left to right repeatedly.

"No! I can't tell you! I can't tell anyone!" I wailed.

"Why? Why not?" James demanded.

"I just can't!"

I started sobbing uncontrollably. James pulled me in for a hug. I buried my face in his chest and wept. I was so close to discovering the truth. I knew it. I just couldn't tell anyone. If I did, they would only try to stop me. They would only tell me that it was too dangerous. They would only tell me to drop it. Just like Logan, they saw me as a baby. They saw me as someone they had to protect. They saw me as someone who wasn't capable of taking care of himself.

"Carlos, you are the only one keeping me sane. I'm not about to let something bad happen to you too," James said.

I pulled my head back and looked at him with a vision hazed by tears.

"It won't. I'll be careful. I promise. You just have to trust me," I said.

"Are you sure I can't help?" James asked.

"I'm sure."

James probably _could_ help. I just didn't _want_ him to. The more people who knew about this, the more people were in danger. I couldn't help but think that I now had a giant bull's-eye on my chest. The last thing I wanted was for James or anyone else to have one on their chest too.

James reluctantly let go of me.

"Thanks, James," I said before taking off.

XXXXX

I went to talk to the receptionist on the third floor. I was hoping to see the security camera footage from a couple nights ago from the time visitation hours ended to the time visitation hours began the following morning. I was hoping to prove that Camille's dad was as I suspected the one who left Logan that headless Care Bear.

"Hi, I was wondering if I could watch the security footage from a couple of nights ago up until the beginning of yesterday morning's visitation hours," I said.

"I'm sorry. That's private property," the female receptionist responded.

No! This couldn't be happening. Not when I was so close! I felt myself start to cry again.

"Please? Someone had terrorized my best friend. He left him a headless Care Bear! Surely, you've heard of that by now! Whoever did it is still on the loose. He's dangerous. There's no telling who could be next. It could be me, my friends, or my family. Won't you reconsider?" I begged.

"Aw, sweetie, don't cry. I'm sure I could make an exception. I'll be right back," she said.

It wasn't long before she had returned. She had a VCR tape in her hand, which she promptly handed to me.

"Here you are. The media room is down the hallway on your left. You can watch it there," she stated.

"Thank you," I said.

"You're very welcome."

As soon as I reached the media room, I popped the VCR tape into the VCR, and powered on the TV. I fast forwarded through the tape. Most of the tape was uneventful. It was after visitation hours, so no one was even caught on camera. Once in a while, I'd see a nurse or a doctor go into Logan's room.

I finally found what I was looking for. Someone had gone into Logan's room that wasn't a doctor or a nurse. He was carrying a headless Care Bear. I paused the tape so that I could get a better look at the culprit. I gasped when I realized that I had been right; it was Mr. Sanders. I ejected the VCR tape, and stashed it away, stuffing it halfway in my jeans before covering it up with my t-shirt. I just hoped no one would notice.

I pulled out my cell phone, and dialed a familiar number.

"_Carlos?_" the voice greeted.

"Hey Dad, could you do me a favor? Could you run a background check on Camille's dad, Mr. Sanders, for me? Can you see if there's any connection to a seventeen year old kid named Sid? I know there's a connection. I just would like to know what it is," I said.

"_This is about Logan, isn't it? I heard about that. You have my condolences, son._"

"Oh, Logan's not dead. He's alive, but barely. You're right though. This is about Logan. Sid can't get away with this. Neither can Camille's dad. Justice needs to be served. Everyone responsible needs to pay. You're a police officer. Surely you understand."

"_I do, but son, this is dangerous work. If Sid or Mr. Sanders finds out that you are onto them, you could get hurt. Maybe you should just let me handle this._"

"No way! See? This is why I didn't even want to tell you! I knew you would act like this!"

"_Can you blame me? You're my son. A parent's worst nightmare is something bad happening to their child. You'll understand that someday when you have kids of your own. Look what happened to Logan. If you're not careful, that could happen to you too. Do you want that mi hijo?_"

"Are you going to help me or not?"

"_I'll see what I can find out. Just promise me you'll be careful._"

"I promise."

I hung up my cell phone, before stuffing it away in my pocket. I checked the watch on my wrist. I don't even know how long I'd been gone, but everyone was probably wondering where I was by now. I headed back to Logan's hospital room.

When I got there, it was empty. I figured everyone must be out looking for me. Was I really gone _that_ long? I walked over to Logan's bedside, and took his hand in mine.

"I promise you Logan that I will find Sid, and make him pay for what he did to you. I know Camille's dad is involved somehow. I know he's the one who left you that headless Care Bear. I have the VCR tape to prove it. I heard him talking on his cell. He said, 'It's me. We've got a problem.' I don't want you to worry though. I won't let anything happen to you. I'm going to make Mr. Sanders pay too. My dad's running a background check on him to find out how he's connected to Sid. They can't get away with this. They _won't_ get away with this. I promise," I said with teary eyes.

To Be Continued…

**A/N: Okay, if you don't want anything bad to happen to Carlos, why don't YOU tell him to stop sticking his nose where it doesn't belong? If he wasn't so nosy…Um, yeah, so this was one of my longest chapters yet, but it was also one of the most difficult to write. I hope you still liked it though.**


	32. When Four Becomes Three

**A/N: For all of you who have threatened me, I am not unprotected. I have two guardians—my fan fiction wife, Miss Fenway (and her forks), and futureisbright. Oh, and since I seem to get asked this a lot, I don't know exactly how many chapters this story will have. If I were to guess, I would say 40-50 chapters, but uh…don't quote me on that. It all depends. It could be more. It could be less. It probably won't be less though…**

**Disclaimer: Ha! Like I own Big Time Rush! I don't even have dollars in the triple digits in my checking account!**

**Big Time Disaster**

_When Four Becomes Three_

_Kendall's POV_

Carlos had been missing for over an hour now, and we were all starting to get really worried. James, Camille, my mom, and I had been combing the hospital searching for Carlos. After everything that happened to Logan, we really couldn't be going off on our own. That's when most of the bad stuff happened to Logan—when he was away from us.

The four of us rendezvoused in Logan's hospital room where Carlos was standing by Logan's bedside, holding Logan's hand in his. I breathed a sigh of relief. I don't know what I would have done if something bad had happened to Carlos too.

"There you are!" I said to Carlos.

"Where were you? Are you okay?" James asked, going to give Carlos a hug.

We were all surprised when Carlos sidestepped James. Usually, he wasn't one to refuse a hug. James, Carlos, Logan, and I had a very bromantic relationship with one another (well not so much anymore…), and it never used to bother Carlos getting hugged by one of us. We were all comfortable enough in our masculinity to not get weirded out by things like hugs. Now, to an outside observer, it might look weird how there's so much physical contact between us.

"Don't touch me! I'm fine!" Carlos yelled.

This wasn't like Carlos at all. He rarely ever yelled, let alone at us. It didn't go unnoticed that he had also dodged James' first question.

The next thing we knew, Gustavo, Kelly, and Freight Train had entered the room. They had probably seen the news. They were therefore probably surprised that Logan wasn't dead after all.

"We came as soon as we heard. How's Logan?" Kelly asked.

Kelly's question brought everyone but me to tears. I felt my lower lip tremble. I tried to keep it together. I didn't want to cry in front of anyone, especially not Gustavo. I was the leader. I was supposed to be the strong one.

"The good news is that he's alive. The bad news is that he's on life-support," I answered.

Gustavo shifted uncomfortably from where he was standing.

"I'd hate to do this now of all times, but Griffin wanted me to remind you that Big Time Rush is leaving on a six week tour in one week. He wants you guys to either replace Logan or become a trio, but he's right. Something needs to be done. We can't just cancel the tour," Gustavo stated.

Carlos, James, and I traded looks with one another. We didn't need to say anything to know what the others were thinking.

"We're not replacing Logan!" we exclaimed in unison.

After we told Gustavo that, I noticed James start to cry once again.

"Then Big Time Rush will become a trio for the time being. We'll see you dogs in the recording studio at seven o'clock tomorrow morning," Gustavo said.

Gustavo turned around to leave. Freight Train was right behind him. Kelly gave us an apologetic look before turning around to leave as well.

"Wait!" Carlos called out.

The three of them turned around to look at Carlos.

"Do you think we could borrow Freight Train?" Carlos asked.

Gustavo chuckled. "Let me think about that…No."

I wasn't quite sure where Carlos was going with this. Why would he want to borrow Freight Train?

"Please? I can't speak for the other guys, but I know that I would feel much better knowing that Freight Train was here keeping an eye on Logan. I mean even when visitation hours are over, he could wait outside his room or something, I don't know. It's just Logan's on life support. He could easily die. All someone has to do is unplug him from the machine," Carlos said, his eyes brimming with tears.

Now I saw where Carlos was going with this. I was impressed. It was a really good idea. I can't believe I didn't think of it first. Most people seem to think Carlos isn't too bright. However, he has his moments.

"Fine," Gustavo said begrudgingly. He wasn't too eager to lose his executive-in-charge-of-making-people-do-what-he-says.

XXXXX

James, Carlos, and I were at Rocque Records first thing in the morning. We were all tired. None of us had been able to sleep a wink last night. We kept thinking about Logan. We knew that he would be okay with Freight Train watching over him, but it still didn't stop us from worrying. What if Freight Train dozed off for a second and someone slipped in and unplugged the life-support machine? It was a scary thought.

"Dogs, since Big Time Rush is now a trio, we need to give all of Logan's solos to someone else," Gustavo said in his 'normal' speaking voice, which was decibels above most people's 'normal' speaking voice.

The three of us frowned. We didn't want to take Logan's solos. They were _his_. It wouldn't _feel_ right. It wouldn't _be_ right. By doing so, in a way, it was like we were kicking Logan out of the band. I didn't want to kick Logan out of the band.

"Why are we doing this anyways? Logan's going to wake up before we go on tour, so this is pointless!" Carlos remarked.

Carlos was always so optimistic. Looking over at James, he had the same doubts that I had. We didn't think Logan would recover by the time we were supposed to leave for tour. Even if he were to wake up by then, which seemed doubtful, he would be in no condition to go on tour.

"I know this is difficult, but we need to be prepared just in case he can't go on tour with us," Kelly said sadly.

"Right. Let's start with 'Any Kind of Guy.' Take it from the top," Gustavo instructed.

The music started playing.

"Here I am. There you are. Why does it seem so far? Next to you is where I should be. Something I want so bad. Know what's inside your head. Maybe I can see what you see," James sung.

We were all silent when it came to Logan's solo. I don't know. Maybe we were waiting for him to start singing, but he wasn't even here.

"Cut! Cut! What was that? _Someone_ sing Logan's solo! I don't care who!" Gustavo yelled.

The music started from the beginning again. James sang his solo again. Then, it got to Logan's solo.

"I gotta keep on believing that everything takes time. I'll make up any reason to make you mine. If you're staying or leaving, I'll follow your lead. Open your eyes. I can be what you ne-ee-ed," James and I sung at the same time.

"Cut! Cut! This isn't a duet! Only one of you sings! James, since you just had a solo, let Kendall take this one!" Gustavo ordered.

James and I turned to face one another, glaring at each other. The music started up again. James sang his solo. Then, it came to Logan's solo.

"I gotta keep on believing that everything takes time. I'll make up any reason to make you mine. If you're staying or leaving. I'll follow your lead. Open your eyes. I can be what you ne-ee-ed," I sung.

"Logan sang it better than that," James muttered.

I reached over Carlos, and shoved James.

"What's your problem?" I shouted.

"I'm just calling it like I see it!" James remarked.

"Stop! Stop! Stop! James, Kendall, knock it off! Focus! We leave for a tour in six days! That sounded fine! Let's take it from the top again!" Gustavo shouted.

So we did the song from the top, this time without interruptions. I took Logan's solo when we got to it. It wasn't long before we got to another one of Logan's singing parts.

"Let me know if I'm getting through," I sung.

"Making you understand," James and I sung at the same time.

"Cut! Cut! What did I say about this not being a duet? Kendall, you just sang, so James, you take Logan's part this time around!" Gustavo ordered.

We started the song over again. When we got to Logan's second solo, this time only James sang it.

"Making you understand," he sang.

"Logan sang it better than that," I commented.

"Who asked you?" James retorted.

"I'm just calling it like I see it!"

"Oh, you think you're real funny, don't you?"

James and I got into a shoving fight. I was so wrapped up in my fight with James that I was barely aware of the fact that Carlos left the recording studio in tears.

"Ugh! Take five! James, Kendall, when I come back, you two better have got whatever this is out of your systems!" Gustavo exclaimed, before he and Kelly left.

I shoved James.

"Good going James! Now you made Carlos cry!" I remarked.

He shoved me back.

"Actually, I think it was _you_ that made him cry!" he countered.

He went to leave the recording studio, but I grabbed him by the arm before he could.

"Where do you think you're going?" I demanded.

"I'm going to check on Carlos," he answered.

"No, you're not. You stay here. _I'll_ check on Carlos."

James knocked me flat on my back with a right hook to the face. As I was staring up at the ceiling, I could make out James leaving the recording studio.

I sat up and pulled my knees to my chest. I buried my face in my kneecaps and cried. A part of me was crying because I was alone, and so it's not like anyone could see me. The rest of me was crying because I just couldn't hold back the tears any longer. My world was coming down all around me, and I couldn't take it anymore.

It wasn't fair! We shouldn't be singing Logan's solos! We shouldn't be going on tour without him! James had Carlos. I had no one! I used to have Logan, but now…Through all of this, I had stopped seeing Jo. It was just too difficult. My thoughts were with Logan always. I couldn't go on a date with Jo or spend time with her, and give her my undivided attention. It wasn't fair to her. So, I just stopped. At first, she e-mailed me, called me, left me voicemails, and texted me a lot. Eventually even those stopped.

"Logie, please come back to us! I need you!" I cried out.

"Kendall?" I heard Carlos' voice say.

I looked up and through the haze of tears, I could see a blurry Carlos standing in front of me. I couldn't make out the expression on his face, but I could hear the sympathy in his voice. He felt sorry for me.

"Are you crying?" he asked.

I hastily wiped my eyes with my sleeve.

"Don't be ridiculous. I just have allergies," I lied.

Carlos sat down on the floor next to me. He draped an arm over my shoulder, and I rested my head on his shoulder. I didn't know why he was with me instead of James, but right now, I could care less. I just didn't want him to go anywhere.

"Oh Kendall, you don't have to pretend for me. It's okay if you want to cry. I won't judge you," he said.

"I can't do this, Carlos. It's too hard. How are we supposed to go on tour without Logan? How are we supposed to sing Logan's solos? How are we supposed to move on with our lives without him? It's not right!" I remarked, trying to fight back my tears.

Carlos chuckled softly.

"You're asking me?" he replied.

I knew Carlos didn't like hearing that I didn't think Logan would wake up in time to go on tour with us, but I couldn't help but think that. Logan narrowly escaped death. He cheated death. His body needed time to recover still.

"Okay, break's over! Let's get back to work!" Gustavo exclaimed.

Carlos and I quickly stood up, nearly bumping heads when we did. James and Kelly also came back into the recording studio. Once again, Carlos stood between me and James in the sound booth.

"Now, let's rehearse 'Famous.' James, you'll try Logan's rap first," Gustavo said.

So, we sang 'Famous.' When it got to Logan's rap, James gave it a go.

"Your song is on the radio. Hot rotation video. Bright lights, fan mail, paparazzi on your tail. Tour bus, private jet, thinking big ain't failed you yet. Just one thing you can't forget. Takes more than just wanting it. Aim high. Never rest. Put your passion to the test. Give your all, never less. Famous means that you're the best," James sung, that's right; _sung_.

"Stop! What was that? It's a rap! R-A-P! Rap!" Gustavo yelled.

I snickered, and when I looked over at Carlos, I saw him smirking as well. Gustavo was livid. His face was bright red. His nostrils were flaring. Kelly was holding him back. When James turned to glare at me, Carlos quickly wiped the smirk off his face.

"Let's try it again. Kendall, you're up this time," Gustavo commanded.

So, we sang 'Famous' a second time. When it came to Logan's rap, I gave it a shot.

"Your song is on the radio? Hot rotation video? Bright lights? Fan mail? Paparazzi on your tail? Tour bus? Private jet? Thinking big ain't failed you yet? Just one thing you can't forget? Takes more than just wanting it? Aim high? Never rest? Put your passion to the test? Give your all? Never less? Famous means that you're the best?" I said in a normal speaking voice that I wasn't even sure qualified as a rap.

"Why did every line sound like you were asking a question?" Gustavo screamed.

James burst out laughing, when I turned to narrow my eyes at him, I saw Carlos smirking. As soon as he saw me look, he quickly wiped the smirk off his face, much like he did with James. Then, he slowly put the smirk back on his face. I rolled my eyes at him.

"Okay, Carlos it is! Let's hear what you got! Take it from the top!" Gustavo instructed.

So we did the song again. When we got to Logan's rap, Carlos tried his hand at it.

"Your song is on the radio. Hot rotation video. Bright lights, fan mail, paparazzi on your tail. Tour bus, private jet, thinking big ain't failed you yet. Just one thing you can't forget. Takes more than just wanting it. Aim high. Never rest. Put your passion to the test. Give your all, never less. Famous means that you're the best," Carlos rapped.

He immediately held his hands up innocently.

"I know, I know. Logan did it better," he stated.

"No. I mean yeah. But that was still really good," James commented.

"Yeah, good job Carlos!" I said, clapping Carlos on the back.

To Be Continued…

**A/N: Happy National Big Time Rush Day! My fan fiction wife and her angst twin came up with the idea. Anyways, so I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter…at least Carlos and Logan didn't get hurt in this chapter though, right? That's…something…isn't it?**


	33. Papi!

**A/N: See? I was probably like the only BTR fan that did NOT want to see 'Big Time Girlfriends.' Now that I have, I'm all depressed. Probably my all-time favorite couple in any TV show broke up, and are "just friends." Yeah, I'm completely beside myself right now. You better brace yourself for a LOT of angst in this story as a result. You've been warned…**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Big Time Rush. If I did, Camille and Logan wouldn't be "just friends." Grr!**

**Big Time Disaster**

_Papi!_

_Officer Garcia's POV_

My flight landed in LAX. I had flown out from Minnesota to surprise my son, and to help him with his investigation. I had done a background check on Mr. Sanders, and found out how he was connected to Sid, just like my son had asked me to do. I couldn't just sit by in Minnesota knowing that my son was possibly putting himself in danger.

This was actually my second visit to The Palm Woods. The last time I visited, Carlos had lost his helmet, and together, we tracked it down. I realized then that he had good instincts, and would make a great police officer or even detective. The door to Apartment 2J opened, and Carlos saw me for the first time.

"Papi!" he said excitedly.

He ran over to me and jumped in my arms, as the two of us shared a father-son hug. It had been too long since I had seen him last. Far too long. I missed him like crazy. Sure, I had other children, but Carlos had always been my favorite. He was actually Carlos Garcia Jr. I was Carlos Garcia Sr. He reminded me a lot of myself when I was younger.

The two of us pressed our foreheads together.

"Ahh!" we play screamed, before both grinning widely.

Kendall and James didn't think anything of my behavior. They had grown used to it by now. They knew that I was just as crazy as my son, if not crazier. That's probably how my son ended up crazy too.

"Hey Mr. Garcia! When did you get here?" James asked.

"My flight just got in about an hour ago. How've you been doing Ken?" I replied.

That was my nickname for James. I knew what his name was, but he just kind of reminded me of one of those Ken dolls. You know, Mattel. Barbie's love interest. Yeah, _that_ Ken.

"About as well as can be expected. How about you?" he asked.

"Better now that I'm here with my boy!" I replied, playfully putting my son in a headlock.

"Dad, cut it out!" Carlos whined, as he futilely tried to free himself from my headlock.

I laughed. My son was rowdy, but I had my police training that gave me an advantage. Seeing him squirm until he eventually gave up was always amusing.

"What brings you by Officer Garcia?" Kendall asked.

"Not much. I was just due for a visit," I lied.

My son and I didn't want anyone else to know that we were conducting an investigation. We wanted to do anything we could to minimize the collateral damage. The less people who knew what we were up to, the less people were in danger. I didn't really relish the thought of lying to James and Kendall, but sometimes the right thing wasn't always easy.

"How are you doing Kendall?" I asked.

I knew that Kendall and Logan were super close. Carlos hadn't really told me anything about how everyone was dealing with what happened to Logan. If I knew Kendall though, he was probably dying inside, but trying to put a brave face on for the sake of appearance.

"I'm fine," Kendall replied.

See what I mean?

"Hey Dad, where are you staying?" Carlos inquired.

"A hotel a couple of blocks away," I answered.

"Are you for real? Why don't you just stay here? Please?"

I chuckled. It was uncanny how Carlos often got whatever he wanted. He was such a sweet kid. All it took was him asking, 'Please?' and even the strongest-willed people gave in to his demands. That kind of persuasiveness would be a great asset if he ever wanted to become a police officer like his old man.

"Are you sure? I don't want to impose," I replied.

"Impose? Please! Papi, don't be loco!" Carlos exclaimed.

Everyone else went to bed by eleven o'clock, but my son and I stayed up until the wee hours of the morning just catching up with one another. Plus, we also came up with a strategy. Tomorrow, we would go to the juvenile detention center, and speak with the warden. Then, we would ask Camille where her father lives, so we could pay him a visit. We were doing this together. There was no way I was letting Carlos do this on his own.

XXXXX

The next morning, we headed to the juvenile detention center first thing. No one else was even up yet. They wouldn't think anything of it though. They probably thought we were just having some father-son bonding time. They knew I would keep Carlos safe.

We talked to one of the prison guards at the juvenile detention center.

"Hi, could we speak to the warden here?" Carlos asked.

"Yeah, sure. I guess. Follow me," the prison guard said.

We followed the prison guard through a series of hallways. We passed a bunch of prison cells that were occupied by inmates. I couldn't believe that Logan had been here. The children here weren't bad kids; they were just misguided, misunderstood kids from the wrong side of the tracks.

I felt Carlos grip my hand tightly as we passed the prison cell where Logan used to be in. Sid had been his roommate. I still couldn't wrap my head around what Sid did to Logan. He stabbed him, and then ran. There were all sorts of red flags. How did Sid get a knife in the first place? Why wasn't Sid in handcuffs? Why did they let him into the visitation room when Logan was in there? Who helped him escape? This was no accident. This was a premeditated act of violence.

We finally met the warden. He was a tall guy. He was probably around seven feet tall, and probably weighed a good three hundred or so pounds. He was a very intimidating guy. He easily towered over me and my son.

"Hello, I'm Officer Garcia, and I was wondering if we could look at the security camera footage from—" I started to say.

"Our security cameras haven't been working for the past month or so," the warden replied before I could even finish.

"How convenient," Carlos commented.

"What did you say?"

The warden slammed his fist into his open hand repeatedly as he eyed my son.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," I stated, as my hand went to my gun.

The warden held his hands up in defense. Yeah, he wasn't so tough now, was he?

"Is there anything else I could help you gentlemen out with?" he asked.

I saw right through him. He was trying to be all polite to us now. I knew it was all a ruse. No matter how big you are, bullets affect you the same way. He knew this. I shuddered to think what might have happened to Carlos if he came here without me.

"Now that you mention it, have any prisoners escaped here?" I questioned.

"If they did, I would be the first to know," he replied.

"Do you? Do you know?"

"No. All inmates are accounted for, other than that Mitchell kid."

I knew he was lying. This just confirmed my suspicion that the warden was in on it. First, the security cameras were down. Now, he claims Sid was still at juvenile hall when we passed his empty cell.

"Come on son, this guy's no help," I said.

As soon as we rounded the corner, I grabbed Carlos by his arm. I put a finger to my mouth signaling for him to be quiet. We both pressed our backs flat against the wall. We heard the warden calling someone.

"It's me. You were right about the Hispanic kid. He was here snooping around asking to see security camera footage, and if we had any prisoners escape. Oh, and get this. His dad is a cop. Wait. You knew? How? I see. Well, what do you want me to do? Okay, if you insist. Yeah, I talked to Sid last night. He was in Las Vegas when I spoke to him last," the warden said.

I motioned for Carlos to follow me. We left the juvenile detention center. Once we were in my rental car, we talked about what we just found out.

"How does the warden know where Sid is? They know about me? Who even are they? Am I in danger? I'm in danger, aren't I? Dad, I'm scared. I don't know if I want to do this anymore," Carlos commented.

I gently grabbed Carlos' chin, and turned his head so that he was looking at me.

"Carlos, look at me. You don't have to do this if you don't want to. I can take it from here if you would like me to. If you do want to continue though, I can't stop you, but I will protect you. Nothing's going to happen to you, son. Not on my watch," I said.

"Dad, you never did tell me how Camille's dad is connected to Sid. Did you find something out about that?" he asked.

"Yeah, as it turns out, Mr. Sanders used to be college roommates with the warden here. Sid is the warden's kid."

"So that's why the warden knew where Sid was. That's also why he told us that all the prisoners were accounted for. He was protecting him!"

We were so close to putting Mr. Sanders, the warden, and Sid behind bars that I could taste it. We already knew how they were connected. Thanks to Carlos, we had proof that Mr. Sanders was terrorizing Logan. We knew where Sid was, or at least where he last was. We also knew that they knew that Carlos was onto them. That's what worried me the most.

"Carlos, I'm going to ask you one more time. Do you still want to do this? You don't have to," I stated.

Carlos shook his head left to right repeatedly.

"No, I want to do this. I have to do this. I promised Logan," Carlos answered.

That was what I was afraid he would say. I admired his loyalty and his devotion to his friend, but I was just scared that was what would get him hurt, or worse. I knew though that once Carlos made up his mind, there was no talking him out of it. I was the same way.

"Well, in that case. Why don't you give Camille a call, and see if she knows where her father lives?" I instructed.

Carlos pulled out his cell phone and dialed Camille's number.

"Hi Camille! It's Carlos. Do you happen to know where your dad lives?" he asked.

Carlos had told me about how Camille's parents were getting a divorce, and how Camille was living at The Palm Woods with her mother. He had also filled me in about Mr. Sanders' resentment of Logan. I didn't understand that one bit. Logan was as innocent as can be. How could anyone not like him? How could anyone want to hurt him?

"I can't really tell you that, but it's important. You're just going to have to trust me. No, I'm not in any danger. Yes, I'll be careful. Okay," he said, before signaling for me to hand him a pen and a notepad.

I pulled a notepad and a pen out of the glove compartment, and handed it to my son.

"Okay, got it. Thanks, Camille! I'll see you later. Bye," he said, before hanging up the phone. He had scribbled the address down as she told it to him.

"Alright, let's go," I said.

XXXXX

We drove to Mr. Sanders' apartment. It was in a bad neighborhood in downtown Los Angeles. I checked the front door only to find that it was unlocked. I had a bad feeling about this. It was almost like we were walking into a trap. We were already here though. It would be silly to turn back now. I pulled out my gun, and held it out in front of me.

"Stay behind me," I said to my son.

I opened the front door. I cautiously entered the apartment. I quickly scanned the room for any sign of danger. After Carlos was inside, I shut the door behind him. I realized why the door was left unlocked. The lock was broken. The apartment was really run down.

"Stay here, I'm going to make sure the place is clear," I instructed.

I walked through the hallway into the living room. I craned my head as I looked for any sign of anybody in the apartment. I didn't want to call out and alert them to my presence. I walked down another hallway, past the only bathroom in the apartment. I came to the end of the hallway. There was a bedroom on either side of me.

I went in the bedroom on my left first. I scanned the bedroom, and didn't see anything suspicious. Then I exited that bedroom, and went in the other bedroom. I combed the room, but it too was empty. I put my gun away. We were alone in the apartment. I headed out into the living room.

"Dad, look!" Carlos said, pointing to the end table.

On top of the end table was the head of a Care Bear and a digital voice recorder like the kind college students use to record lectures.

"That's the head to the Care Bear Mr. Sanders left Logan in the hospital!" Carlos exclaimed. He went to pick up the voice recorder.

"Wait! Put these gloves on first. You don't want to get fingerprints on them because they're evidence," I said, handing him a pair of latex gloves.

He put on the gloves, and then picked up the digital voice recorder. He rewound it to the beginning, and pushed 'Play.'

"Found you. Did you get my present?" the recording said.

"Oh my God! That's exactly what the guy said to Logan when he called him in the hospital! This is it, Dad!" Carlos said excitedly.

We needed all the solid proof we could get. We couldn't use any of the phone calls in court, because then it was a matter of our word against theirs. Unless we had a recording of what they said, it wouldn't be admissible in court.

Carlos unzipped his backpack, and stashed the Care Bear head and the digital voice recorder away, before zipping it back up.

"Okay, let's get out of here," I said.

Carlos strapped his backpack on, and headed for the front door. When he opened the door, my hand went straight to my gun. In the doorway stood Mr. Sanders and he had a gun of his own drawn. The only thing I could think about was Carlos' safety.

"Carlos, get down!" I shouted, as I scrambled for my gun.

A shot rang out, and I saw my son fall over backwards. Mr. Sanders took off, but all I cared about was my son. I ran over to him, sank to the floor, and held his head in my lap. His eyes were wide open in terror. There was a bullet wound in his chest, and blood was flowing out from it.

"No! Not my boy! Not my boy!" I exclaimed, tears falling from my eyes.

To Be Continued…

**A/N: Now, for some shameless self-promotion. For those of you who haven't checked it out yet, I wrote a one-shot titled "Report Card Blemish." It's Logan-centric (of course!) It's categorized as friendship/hurt/comfort. You should give it a read. I also included it as a choice on the poll on my profile page if you haven't voted yet. As for this chapter, well, it was nice knowing you, but I'm so dead now…**


	34. Pulling the Wool over Your Eyes

**A/N: 69 of you have this on your favorite story list? This has received 570 reviews? 35 of you have me on your favorite author list? Um…wow! I enjoy writing this story and all, but I don't think it's THAT good. I also don't think I'm THAT good of a writer, but uh…thanks! **

**Disclaimer: I still own nothing. **

**Big Time Disaster**

_Pulling the Wool over Your Eyes_

_Carlos' POV_

I kept perfectly still as I lay on the carpeted floor in my father's arms. I could hear someone get into their car, and slam the car door shut. I could hear someone turning on their ignition, and the start of an engine. Then, I heard someone peel out of the parking lot, tires screeching.

"Okay, he's gone," my dad said.

I sat up, and unzipped my jacket. Underneath it was an IV bag of blood duct taped to a bulletproof vest. My hands were shaking. That was the most frightening thing I have ever done in my life. It could have ended much differently too—it could have ended badly. Had Mr. Sanders shot me in the head, or one of my limbs, I'd be lying on the floor bleeding for real. I don't know if Mr. Sanders going for the kill on me was worth celebrating.

My dad sat on the floor next to me, and gathered me in an embrace. It was weird. You would think that with my dad hugging me, I would calm down, but the opposite happened; I began to tremble even more in his arms. I felt some tears leak out from the corners of my eyes.

"How did I do?" I asked with a shaky voice, desperate to earn my father's approval.

"Carlos, you did great," my dad replied.

My dad and I came up with this idea to fake my own death so that Mr. Sanders will flee town, and thus stay away from Logan…and me. See, now he thinks that he killed me, and so he wants to get a head start on the police before they come looking for him. The hope is that Mr. Sanders will join up with Sid, and my father can get both of them in one fell swoop. Even if it doesn't go down like that, we still know where Sid is, or at least where he last was.

Last night, after everyone else had gone to bed, my dad drew some blood from me, and put it in an IV bag. We then used some duct tape to attach it to a spare bulletproof vest that my dad had. This morning, as I was getting dressed, I put it on underneath my jacket. My dad had said that he would protect me, and he meant it.

So, it really was my blood that now seeped onto the floor of Mr. Sanders' apartment. It's just I hadn't actually been shot, but when the CSIs came to investigate the crime scene, they wouldn't know that. My blood in Mr. Sanders' apartment was just more evidence we could use to arrest him and put him behind bars where he belonged.

"I was so scared, Papi! What if he hadn't shot me in the chest? I could've died!" I wailed.

He pulled away from me, and held me at arm's lengths, with his hands on my shoulders. I could tell that he felt sorry for me. He had tried to talk me out of doing this, but I had to go and be stubborn. I have to say that the idea of playing detective sounds really cool, but actually doing it, and being faced with the danger I was faced with, nothing can compare.

"Carlos, look at me. You were never really in danger. From what you told me, guys like Mr. Sanders don't mess around. They go for the obvious kill. They go for the chest, straight for the heart. He didn't realize that he was playing right into my hand. He didn't realize that I was expecting that. I wasn't going to let anything bad happen to you. That's why I gave you the bulletproof vest. I know it was scary, but I am so proud of you," my dad said.

Hearing that my dad was proud of me made my heart swell with pride. I was also comforted by the fact that he really did have my best interests in mind. Thinking about it, it made sense. If my dad had even the slightest doubt, he wouldn't have come up with the whole faking my death scenario. He probably wouldn't even have let me come along.

"What do we do now?" I asked, trying to pull myself together.

"_We_ don't do anything. _I'm_ going to Las Vegas to try to locate Sid. If I'm lucky, Mr. Sanders will rendezvous with Sid, and I can arrest them both," my dad answered.

I was kind of hurt that my dad didn't want me to come with him. I thought we made a pretty good team. I wanted to help. I was worried about my dad's safety. He was a cop, but he wasn't invincible. As long as I could remember, I was always worried if my dad would even come home for dinner each night. I know he loves his job, but sometimes I wish he'd have an office job or something. That way, at least I won't have to worry about him all the time.

"I can help! Let me come with you," I said.

"Not this time, Carlos. Besides, you're going to be leaving on tour soon. Plus, there's still Sid's dad to contend with," my father replied.

"Right. What should we do about him?"

"For now, nothing. We wait for him to slip up. He'll soon know that his two accomplices are on the run, and he'll start to panic. He won't think. He'll just act. That's when he'll make a mistake."

I didn't much like the idea of Sid's dad being on the loose. My dad was right though. We didn't really have anything on him to make an arrest. We had no choice but to wait for him to make a mistake. I just hoped that the mistake didn't come at the expense of me, Logan, or anyone I cared about.

"So, this is goodbye?" I asked, tears in my eyes.

"Of course not! It's see you later," my dad responded. "Come on. I'll take you back to The Palm Woods."

The car ride back to The Palm Woods was filled with silence. I didn't want my dad to leave again. He just got here. I had barely got to spend any time with him. I wanted to believe that he would be fine; that nothing bad would happen to him. It's just Sid and Mr. Sanders have already proven that they're dangerous people. There were two of them and only one of my dad.

When we pulled into the parking lot, I undid my seatbelt. I threw my arms around my father in a hug. He returned the embrace. I hated this part. I hated this when I first left Minnesota for Los Angeles. I hated it now.

"I love you, Dad!" I said.

"I love you too, Carlos!" he replied.

"Be careful."

"You be careful."

XXXXX

_Freight Train's POV_

I stood in the doorway of Logan's hospital room. Instead of standing guard 24/7, we came up with a system that worked pretty well. After visitation hours ended each day, I would come to the hospital to watch over Logan until visitation hours the next morning. There was always someone visiting Logan, so that way he would never be alone; he would never be unprotected.

I couldn't believe what happened to Logan. Why would anyone want to hurt sweet, innocent Logan? How could anyone not like him? He was way too young to be knocking on death's door. He shouldn't be on life support. He should be getting ready to go on tour with the rest of Big Time Rush.

Speaking of Big Time Rush, they were falling apart without Logan. I saw it. Gustavo saw it. Kelly saw it. I'm sure the boys themselves saw it. My guess is that they were so used to it being the four of them that they didn't know what to do or how to act now that it was just three of them.

It didn't even seem that long ago that I was pulling Big Time Rush and Jordin Sparks out of a wishing well in Palm Woods Park. It seemed like just yesterday that they showed up at Rocque Records and caught a skunk for Gustavo, Kelly, and me.

My attention was brought back to the present when I saw a huge guy head my way. He was probably around seven feet tall. He probably weighed around three hundred pounds. He had a bald head and a black goatee. It looked like he had plenty of tattoos. I had never seen this guy before in my life. As a bodyguard, I was a pretty good judge of character though, and I got a bad feeling about this stranger.

"Hi, if you don't mind, I'd like to get in there and see Logan. He's a…_friend_…of mine," the stranger said.

"Actually, I _do_ mind. Access denied," I stated.

He tried to get in my face. He didn't look too pleased that I refused to let him through. I didn't care though. If he didn't like it, I'd like to see him try and do something about it. I was supposed to protect Logan, and that was exactly what I was going to do.

"Do you even know who you're talking to?" he asked furiously.

"Do _you_ know who you're talking to? You're probably used to intimidating people in order to get what you want. Well, try intimidating _me_!" I challenged.

I cracked my knuckles, and rolled my neck. I was a big guy. Most people were scared of me. However, I wasn't a violent person. I was actually kind of a pacifist. Once people got to know me, they came to think of me as a big teddy bear. I was a bodyguard though, and I would use physical force if necessary.

The stranger backed up a couple of steps. So much for intimidating me. From the looks of things, he was all bark and no bite. As it turned out, the guy was nothing more than a coward. He had no problem picking on victims smaller than him, but when it came to someone his own size, he chickened out.

"You can't protect him forever. I'll get to him. Just you wait," the stranger said before turning around and leaving.

XXXXX

_James' POV_

I went out to the kitchen to get a glass of water. I had sand in my eyes, I was groggy, and I dragged my feet behind me. Dawn was way too early for me. Ever since Logan got stabbed, I hadn't been able to get my beauty sleep. I preferred to get eight to ten hours of sleep a night. Now, I was lucky if I got half of that.

I heard the front door open, and I could barely make out through half-open eyes Carlos walk in. I gasped in horror when I saw his jacket. There was a huge red splotch on his jacket. Was that…blood?

"Carlos, are you okay? What happened? You're…_bleeding_," I said frantically.

Carlos looked from me to his jacket, then back up at me.

"No, I'm not bleeding. I mean yeah, that's blood, and yeah it's mine, but it's not what it looks like," he replied.

I looked at him like he had all of a sudden sprouted wings and two more heads.

"It'll probably be easier if I just showed you," Carlos said.

He unzipped his jacket, and I saw he was wearing a bulletproof vest underneath it. Strapped to the vest was an empty IV bag that still had blood residue. At first I was relieved that Carlos wasn't hurt. Then, I immediately started to freak out about why he was wearing a bulletproof vest in the first place.

My heart raced, and I felt my chest tighten. It was suddenly extremely difficult to breathe. The reality of this all started to hit me all at once. Carlos was wearing a bulletproof vest which meant that he was trying to protect himself from something. The only reason he would need to protect himself from something was if he was in danger. It was a bulletproof vest. Did someone try to shoot Carlos?

I remembered how Carlos had told me nothing bad would happen to him and how he promised he would be careful. Wait a second. Did he know he would be in danger? Is that why he said what he said? I'm such a fool! I can't believe I just let him put himself in harm's way! What if something had happened to him? He could've been hurt! Or worse!

I felt Carlos hug me. Aside from his bloodied jacket, he seemed to look fine. As far as I can tell, he sounded fine. I wanted to be mad at Carlos. Whatever he had been up to, he had kept me in the dark about it. I was his best friend! I just couldn't bring myself to be mad at him though. All that mattered to me was that he was safe.

"It's okay, James. I'm okay," he said.

I was confused when he pulled back from the embrace.

"I'm sorry for getting blood on your tank top. We should probably put that and my jacket in the washer before Kendall sees them," Carlos stated.

That was probably a good idea. Kendall fainted at the sight of blood. He hated needles. He hated shots. He hated getting blood drawn. He even got dizzy when he got a paper cut on his finger.

"By 'We' I hope you mean 'me' Carlos. Remember what happened the last time you _attempted_ to do laundry?" I asked.

The two of us put our hands on our chins and looked up at the ceiling as we recalled that fateful day.

_Flashback_

It was Sunday morning. Kendall's mom had assigned us chores to be done on Sundays. The four of us and Katie were given their own chore to do, and every weekend, we alternated who did what chore. This particular weekend, Carlos had ended up with the chore of laundry.

He was lying upside down on the back of the couch in the living room. The buzzer on the dryer went off signaling that the clothes were done. Carlos rolled backwards off the couch, before heading to the laundry room. He opened the door to the dryer, and held up one of Logan's t-shirts that _used to be_ white.

"Uh-oh," Carlos commented.

Logan let out a frustrated groan, before running over to the dryer, and rummaging through its contents. It didn't take him long to find the article of clothing responsible for his change in wardrobe color. He held up a red t-shirt.

"Carlos! You're _supposed_ to do whites and colors in separate loads!" Logan exclaimed, his eye twitching.

Carlos rubbed the back of his neck, and chuckled nervously.

"Look at the bright side Logie. At least all your t-shirts and socks still match. Please don't hurt me," Carlos said, before taking off running.

"Carlos, get back here!" Logan yelled, giving chase.

_End Flashback_

Carlos and I both started laughing at the memory of that day.

"He was really mad at me. I think that's when he started borrowing my t-shirts without asking first," Carlos said.

"I thought it was strange when he started wearing what I thought was your purple t-shirt," I commented.

The smiles on our faces quickly turned upside down.

"I miss him, James," Carlos said sadly.

"I do too, Carlos. I do too." I replied.

To Be Continued…

**A/N: For all of you who thought I actually killed Carlos, I have an overwhelming desire to say "April Fool's!" The only problem is that it's not April…Seriously though, you thought I was evil for having Carlos get shot. Now, I'm sure you still think I'm evil for making you think I had Carlos get shot. I can't win, can I? Oh, and on a random side note, did anyone else wonder why the song "Shot in the Dark" wasn't on the Big Time Rush album? I was actually looking forward to hear the full version of that song. If you recall, that was the song that played towards the end of the episode 'Big Time Terror.' **


	35. Sanders versus Sanders

**A/N: So I learned something yesterday. Me + shopping carts + Monster energy drink RIGHT BEFORE work = Energizer bunny on crack! Oh, and I changed my mind about the episode 'Big Time Girlfriends' now. I don't hate it anymore. Want to know why? Huh? Do you? Carlos! He was awesome in it! Just like I thought Logan was the stand out in 'Welcome Back Big Time,' I thought Carlos was the stand out in 'Big Time Girlfriends.' "I'm Carlos. I like summer breezes, winter snow storms, and seeing cats get what's coming to them!" *singing happily and snapping fingers* "And now I can't find all the pieces! Yeah!" Then of course, *mocking Camille* "Love isn't just gonna run up with a corn dog and a hockey stick!"**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, but I do get paid today. Yay! But I can't touch my money until tomorrow because it's "pending" or whatever. Boo!**

**Big Time Disaster**

_Sanders versus Sanders_

_Camille's POV_

I tossed and turned in my bed. Ever since I watched Logan die before my very eyes, I hadn't been getting any sleep. I couldn't get comfortable for one. Secondly, I couldn't sleep long because I was haunted by nightmares of Logan dying. Each nightmare was different, but it always ended the same—Logan died.

_Camille's nightmare_

I was in the visitation room at juvenile hall. For some reason, it was just me and Logan. Kendall, James, and Carlos weren't there like they were when this had actually happened. The two of us were holding hands and gazing into each other's eyes. Ever since Logan got arrested, we didn't get to spend a whole lot of time together, and so we cherished what little time we did have.

The next thing I knew I was in pitch-black darkness. I couldn't even see my own hands in front of my face. My heart started to race. Where was I? Why couldn't I see anything? What was going on? Where was Logan?

Then a lone spotlight shone through the darkness. I could see Logan standing there. He had his trademark smile on his face. He was waving at me. I started running towards him. Then I noticed that something was wrong. I kept running and running, but he wasn't getting any closer. In fact, he was getting further away.

"Logan, no! Don't go!" I screamed.

Tears started falling from my eyes. I was breathing in short, ragged breaths. It was strange. He still stood there smiling and waving at me. Why wasn't he freaked out by what was happening? Wait a second. Was he waving goodbye to me? No, that couldn't be it! I must be wrong! Please tell me I'm wrong!

I gasped in horror when I saw someone come up behind Logan. It was my father. He held a knife in his hand—the same knife Sid had used to stab Logan. The spotlight glinted off the steel of the blade. Logan didn't seem to notice that anyone was behind him. He had no idea he was in danger.

"Logan, behind you!" I yelled.

I ran as fast and as hard as I could, but he was getting further and further away from me. It was like he was slipping away from me. He hadn't heard my warning. He remained standing there smiling and waving at me.

I could do nothing but watch as my father plunged the knife straight through his heart. The tip of the blade poked out of Logan's chest. Blood started flowing out from the corners of his mouth. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, and he dropped to his knees.

"No!" I shrieked.

This couldn't be happening! Not again! Why was my father doing this? Why didn't Logan listen to my warning? Was he dying? Or was he already…_dead_? I clutched my own chest. It was like I could feel the physical pain Logan was feeling. I squeezed my eyes shut tightly. I sank to my knees. The moment I stopped running was the moment I was right next to Logan.

My dad pulled out the knife only to stab Logan again. I went to try to grab the knife from my dad, but my hand passed right through him. I looked at my hands in disbelief. What just happened? Why couldn't I stop my dad from killing Logan?

Logan now lay prone on the ground. He wasn't moving. He wasn't even breathing. My dad didn't stop there though. He kept stabbing Logan over and over again. Hot tears streamed down my face. My vision was blurred by my tears.

"Dad, stop it! You're killing him!" I shouted.

The next thing I knew, my dad had completely vanished. I was now holding something in my hands. I lifted it up to my face to inspect it, and immediately dropped it when I saw what it was—it was the knife. It clattered on the ground.

Why had I been holding the knife? What was going on here? Did I kill Logan? No, that can't be right! I knelt down beside him, and started shaking him.

"Logan, wake up! Logan! Come on! Don't die on me now! You can't leave me! Open your eyes!" I screamed at him.

There was a massive pool of blood that was accumulating beneath him. I looked at my hands, and they had blood on them too—Logan's blood.

"No!" I cried out.

I lay down beside him. I draped one of his limp arms around me. I snuggled into his embrace, and rested my head on his chest. I could feel the side of my face immediately start to get wet with Logan's blood. I strained my ears trying to hear Logan's heartbeat, but it had stopped.

_End nightmare_

"Logan!" I yelled, sitting straight up in my bed.

My entire body was covered in a sheen of sweat. It matted my hair to my forehead. My pulse and my breathing were accelerated. I was literally shaking from head to toe. My mom came rushing into my bedroom, turning my light on. I felt myself sink in my bed a little bit as she sat down beside me, and gathered me in her arms.

"Sweetie, it was just a nightmare. You're fine," my mom said reassuringly.

"What about Logan? Is he fine too?" I asked, my eyes wide with panic.

My mother didn't answer me right away. She was frightened by my behavior. Oh no! Why wasn't she answering me? Had something happened to Logan while I was having my nightmare? Was that even a nightmare? It seemed so real!

"Honey, he's on life support. Remember?" she replied.

"Are you sure? When's the last time you checked? What if something has changed since then?" I asked frantically.

I broke away from my mother. I got out of my bed, and slipped on my slippers. I started heading for the front door.

"Camille, where are you going? You're in your pajamas for Heaven's sake!" my mom exclaimed.

"I have to see Logan! Now!" I hollered.

"It's not even visitation hours yet."

"I don't care! I need to see him! I need to know he's still alive!"

XXXXX

Freight Train let me and my mother in to see Logan. I pulled up a chair, and sat at his bedside. I took his hand in mine, and flinched at how cold it was. I was saddened by the fact that I had to grab his hand; he couldn't grab mine.

I hated seeing him like this. I hated seeing him connected to all these machines. He looked so small and vulnerable. I heard the steady beeping of the heart monitor letting me know that he was alive—even if it was through artificial means. I still couldn't believe it though. If he was alive, then why does it feel like I've lost him?

Fresh, hot tears spilled from my eyes. I leaned over and planted a kiss on his forehead. A couple of tears dripped off my nose and splattered on his closed eyes. I held my breath as I waited in anticipation. I don't know why I was expecting something to happen. It's not like my tears would magically fix him or something. I came back to reality, and started breathing regularly again.

He looked so peaceful lying there. At least it didn't look like he was in any pain. What, did all these machines feel pain for Logan too? They did practically everything else for Logan!

"Remember when Carlos came up with the idea of having me talk to you to get you to wake up? It worked then. I figure it's worth a shot," I said.

I stared at Logan foolishly thinking that he would react to the sound of my voice. I was left disappointed. He didn't acknowledge that I had been speaking to him. For all I know, he didn't even hear anything I said at all.

"Come on, sleepyhead. Don't you think you've slept in long enough now?" I asked, caressing the side of his face as more tears leaked out of the corners of my eyes.

I felt my mom place her hand on my shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze. With my other hand, I reached up and put my hand on top of my mother's.

"So today is the custody hearing. By the end of the day, I'll know which parent I'm going to live with. My dad wants me to testify against my mother. He threatened to hurt those who I care about if I don't do what he says. As far as I'm concerned though, nothing he does will hurt me more than what he's already done to you. I'm so confused right now. What should I do, Logan?" I asked.

I felt stupid for even asking him in the first place. It's not like he could answer me. I mean I was basically talking to someone who was in a vegetative state.

"Come on, Camille. We really should start getting ready," my mom said.

"I'll be back later, Logan. Okay? I'll tell you how it all turned out," I stated, before leaning over and kissing him on the lips this time.

XXXXX

My mom and I were waiting outside the courtroom. I hated thinking that this could be the last time I got to see my mother. If I did what my father said, and testified against her, then there stood a good chance that my dad would get full custody. Usually in custody battles, the judge awards custody to whomever the child they are fighting over wants to live with. I didn't really _want_ to live with my dad, but I didn't have much of a choice.

My mother grabbed my hand, and I turned my body so that I was facing her. I could tell she was nervous. She was trying to mask it, but it was still there on her face. There was also sadness on her face.

"Camille, whatever happens today, just remember that I love you," she said.

I wrapped my arms around her in a hug.

"I know, Mom. I love you too!" I replied.

I was uneasy about this whole situation too. I would feel much better if I had some idea of the outcome. There were no guarantees though one way or the other. Custody battles were also based on who could provide the best home for the child. My mom was living at The Palm Woods. My dad was living in a rundown apartment in a bad part of Los Angeles. I was holding onto hope that was enough for the judge to grant my mom full custody of me.

My mom's lawyer checked her watch. "It's time," she informed us.

The three of us walked into the courtroom. When we entered, we saw my dad's lawyer, but there was no sign of my dad. I took my seat in the back, while my mom and her lawyer went to sit up front. The judge entered the courtroom.

"All rise," the bailiff said.

We all stood up until the judge took his seat.

"You may be seated," the judge said.

"Where's your client?" the judge asked my father's lawyer.

"I have no idea. I've been trying to contact him, but he's not answering his cell," my dad's lawyer replied.

My mom looked back at me and we traded looks with one another. Things were looking up after all. If my dad didn't show up at court, then the judge would have no choice but to award full custody to my mom. I was hopeful.

"Your Honor, please give him five more minutes. I'll keep trying to contact him," my father's lawyer said.

"Five minutes, but not a second longer. I have other cases to get to today," the judge replied.

I watched my father's lawyer pull out his cell phone and repeatedly try to contact my father. As happy as I was that it looked like I would be living with my mother, a part of me was concerned. Why would my father _not_ show up in court? I thought he wanted full custody of me. It just didn't make sense. He blackmailed me into testifying against my mother only for him to pull a no-show?

Then, it dawned on me. The reason he wasn't at court was probably because he had fled town. The reason why he wasn't answering his cell was because he didn't want to be contacted. I couldn't be certain, but my guess is that he probably had his cell turned off. You can only track a cell signal if a cell phone is on. My dad's lawyer probably just got my dad's voicemail.

Why would my dad flee town though? Unless…unless he had hurt someone. I suddenly remembered Carlos asking me for my father's address. Oh God! Not Carlos! My dad didn't! Did he? My eyes started to brim with tears. It was bad enough that I already felt responsible for what happened to Logan, but now I was also partly to blame for whatever happened to Carlos.

I was convinced that something bad had happened to Carlos. I just didn't know what. If only I hadn't given Carlos my father's address. But Carlos told me he wasn't in any danger. He promised me that he would be careful. Who am I kidding? He probably just did that so I wouldn't worry about him.

Was he hurt? Did my father leave him for dead? Or was Carlos already dead? Why hadn't he called me? Why didn't he let me know how his visit with my father went? Or was he still at my father's apartment? Is that why I haven't heard from him? But wait. If he was still at my father's apartment, then how could my dad have already fled town? Unless he hasn't fled town yet. What if Carlos and my dad were at my father's apartment this instant?

I suddenly had difficulty breathing. I hunched over, and placed both my hands over my chest. The courtroom was spinning around me.

"_Camille, breathe. Inhale. Exhale. Just like before. Remember?_" I recalled Logan saying to me.

I took deep, cleansing breaths, and I slowly felt myself start to calm down.

"Have you been able to reach your client?" the judge asked my father's lawyer.

"Not yet. Give me five more minutes your Honor. Please?" he replied.

"I'm afraid I can't do that. I have a full schedule of cases today. Seeing how your client didn't show up in the courtroom, I have no choice but to grant full custody to Mrs. Sanders. Court dismissed," the judge said striking the gavel.

I quickly made my way over to my mom. We hugged each other. I pulled away.

"Camille, what is it? What's wrong?" she asked.

"I have to call Carlos," I answered.

I ran out of the courtroom, and pulled out my cell phone before dialing Carlos' number.

"Come on, Carlos. Pick up. Please pick up," I said out loud.

To Be Continued…

**A/N: You know what the best part of my day is? Getting review alerts in my inbox. Every time I'm on break or lunch at work, I always check. Oh, and am I the only one who noticed the lack of continuity in the actual show? I mean I thought Jo was in Los Angeles to be a singer. Remember 'Big Time Break' when Kendall was all, "So you're a singer, right? Well, do you sing as good as you fight?" Now, she is an actress? Unless she sings and acts…Maybe that's it. Or maybe I was right and the producers or whatever forgot what they originally had Jo in Hollywood for. I know, I know. I'm way too analytical…**


	36. Cornering Carlos

**A/N: So, there's a new poll on my profile page. What should I take on as my next project? Carlos/Logan (not slash) Horror/Humor or Logan/Camille Angst/Romance. They will both be multi-chapter stories (kill me now). I know I asked this before, but I decided to ask again, and this time make it official, so vote now. I will do whatever gets the majority of the votes.**

**Disclaimer: Yeah, still don't own anything.**

**Big Time Disaster**

_Cornering Carlos_

_James' POV_

Carlos' cell phone rang. It was setting on the kitchen counter. He was in taking a shower. It rang a second time. I picked it up and looked at the Caller ID. It read 'Camille.' It rang a third time. I flipped it open and answered it.

"_Carlos?_" Camille asked.

"No. It's James. Carlos is in the shower." I answered.

Why was Camille calling Carlos? Did she know what he was up to? Was she in on it?

"_In the shower? You mean he's okay?_" Camille inquired.

"Yeah. Why? What do you know?" I replied.

Okay, on second thought, maybe she didn't know what he was up to. Maybe she wasn't in on it. She sounded really worried about him. Wh_y _was she asking if he was okay? Did she think he was in trouble or something?

"_All I know is that Carlos had asked me where my father lived. Then, my dad didn't show up at the custody hearing today. I was worried that wasn't just a coincidence,_" she explained.

Let's review what I now knew; Carlos asked Camille where her father lived. Camille sounded worried about Carlos. He snuck into the apartment wearing a bulletproof vest and a bloody jacket. Camille's father didn't show up at the custody hearing.

Where was he then? Carlos told me that it was his blood on the jacket, but what if it wasn't? He wouldn't lie to me about something like that, would he? Did he do something to Mr. Sanders? Is that why he's missing? Or did Mr. Sanders try to do something to Carlos? I was so confused.

"He's fine. Something happened though. Whatever happened, he won't tell me what it is. Camille, he snuck into the apartment early in the morning, and his jacket was bloody. That's not even the scariest part though; the scariest part was that he was wearing a bulletproof vest underneath it," I said.

"_Wait. I thought you said he was fine. Now you said his jacket was bloody. Was he hurt or not?_" Camille responded.

"He said it was his blood, but he wasn't hurt. I don't understand that, but I fully plan on getting to the bottom of it when he gets out of the shower."

It was strange. As angry as I was at Camille for what happened to Logan, she was helping shed light on what was going on with Carlos. I was actually kind of grateful to her for that. From the way it sounded, I was telling her things she didn't know about Carlos either.

"_I'm glad that he wasn't hurt then. Do you want me to come over and help you confront Carlos, or are you still mad at me?_" Camille asked.

"Truthfully, I was still mad at you, but you helped me figure some things out about Carlos, so I kind of feel like I owe you. I just don't know if Kendall wants you to come over though," I answered.

Why did I just say that? I was still mad at Kendall. Last I checked, he was still mad at Camille. Why did it matter if Kendall didn't want Camille to come over?

"_Who cares what Kendall wants? This is about Carlos. I'll be right over,_" Camille said, before hanging up.

Camille was right about one thing though. This was about Carlos. I hated to admit it, but maybe we did need Kendall. Maybe if the three of us confronted Carlos at the same time, he would tell us what was going on. It was worth a shot. I hated the idea of him putting himself in danger. The thought of something bad happening to him or losing him scared me.

I walked into the bedroom the four of us shared. It was weird seeing Logan's bed. A solitary tear fell from my eye as I thought about how he hasn't slept in his bed for so long. It would probably still be a long time yet before he sleeps in it again, if he'll ever…

I walked over to Kendall's bed. He was sleeping peacefully. I shook him.

"Kendall, wake up," I said.

"James, go away! It's early!" he whined, pulling the comforter over his head.

I wondered whether he just didn't want to wake up this early or if he was being like this because he was still mad at me.

"Something is wrong with Carlos," I stated.

The comforter came off him as he sat straight up in his bed. His eyes were full of panic. His relationship with me was strained, as was my relationship with him. However, neither one of us were mad at Carlos. He was the one keeping us together at the moment.

"What do you mean something is wrong with Carlos?" he asked.

I held my hands up in defense.

"I don't want you to panic, but he snuck in this morning, and he was wearing a bulletproof vest underneath his jacket. That's not all though. His jacket was bloody," I explained.

Kendall gripped the sides of his bed with his hands, as if to steady himself. Even the idea of Carlos bleeding was enough to mess with Kendall's balance.

"How can you tell me all of that and ask me not to panic?" Kendall retorted.

"He won't tell me anything, but this whole time, he's been up to something right under our noses, and we had no idea," I said.

I was actually pretty impressed with Carlos. Usually, he wasn't very good at keeping secrets. Let's see. There was the time he told Jo Kendall was at the bottom of the wishing well with Jordin Sparks. There was the time he made fun of Deke for being so tiny even though we were told not to speak of that. Basically, whenever you tell him, "Don't tell anyone," he goes and tells _everyone_ before long.

"Camille's on her way over here. She and I both think if we confront him together, then maybe he'll tell us what's going on," I stated.

"It's worth a shot," Kendall said.

I had to practically do a double take. I couldn't believe Kendall was agreeing to this. He must've picked up on my shock.

"I know I haven't exactly been getting along with you or Camille lately, but I think I can put my differences aside long enough to get the truth out of Carlos," Kendall told me.

"It's funny. Camille said the same thing," I replied.

XXXXX

Camille, Kendall, and I were seated in the living room waiting for Carlos to get out of the shower. He was known for taking long showers. It was quite annoying really. If you didn't take your shower before him, then you ended up taking a cold shower. Those were never fun.

He finally came out of the bathroom, and was surprised when he saw the three of us in the living room.

"Hey, what's going on?" he asked.

"Carlos, come have a seat. We need to talk," Kendall said.

Carlos looked to me and Camille to come to his rescue, but when we didn't say anything, he realized that we agreed with Kendall on this one. He frowned. I could practically see the gears turning in his head.

"Nah, we don't really have anything to talk about," Carlos replied, before starting to head towards his room.

"Carlos, sit!" I exclaimed, pointing at the couch.

He let out a frustrated sigh before dragging his feet behind him. He plopped down on the couch as far away from the three of us as he could possibly get. He had his arms folded over his chest, and refused to look at us.

"What have you been up to?" I asked.

Carlos turned to face me. I could see the betrayal in his eyes. I was almost always on his side. I know he didn't see it, but I still was. I just wanted to help him. He didn't have to be in danger alone. We were all in this together.

"Well, James. I just finished taking a shower. Didn't you hear the water running?" he replied.

"That's not what he meant. Where were you this morning?" Kendall interjected.

He turned away from me, and looked at the wall.

"You guys don't tell me where you are every second of the day, so why should I tell you?" Carlos asked.

I didn't understand why he was being so difficult. Didn't he see that we were just concerned about him? I wondered how Logan would handle this if he were here.

"Carlos, why did you ask me where my dad lived?" Camille questioned.

"Yeah, and why were you wearing a bulletproof vest?" I added.

"Yeah, and when did your dad leave?" Kendall asked.

That's when it clicked. Camille's father was on the run. Carlos and his dad must have confronted him or had some altercation with Mr. Sanders at his house. Camille's dad must have gotten scared, and went on the run. Carlos' dad was chasing him. That's why he left so suddenly.

I looked over at Kendall and Camille, and they had the same look of realization on their faces as well.

"Carlos, what happened?" Kendall asked.

"Why was your jacket bloody this morning?" I inquired.

He stood up from the couch, and turned to face all three of us.

"What's with the third degree?" he said exasperated.

"Carlos, we're just concerned about you," I said.

"Well, don't be! I'm fine! Gosh! Now I know how Logan must feel getting babied!"

His last remark might as well have been a slap to the face. Or in the case of me and Kendall, a low blow. I didn't get Carlos at all. He never used to mind when we babied him. I don't know if I'd call it babying him though. We were just…protective of him. Same thing goes for Logan.

"Carlitos, why don't you just tell us what happened and what you've been up to?" Kendall asked.

"I can't!" Carlos retorted, tears streaming from his eyes.

My heart broke seeing what we had reduced Carlos to. Now he was crying. He was either so mad or so sad that he was crying. I hated seeing him cry. I hated seeing any of my friends cry. I hated knowing that I was the reason for it.

"You can't or you won't?" Camille asked.

"Both," Carlos said so quietly that I almost didn't catch it.

Carlos started to head for the front door. The rest of us stood up from the couch in a hurry.

"Carlos, wait! Where are you going?" Camille asked.

"I don't know, but away from the three of you!" he exclaimed.

"Carlos, stop! Enough is enough! Whatever is going on, you can tell us. We're all in this together. Remember?" Kendall remarked.

Carlos spun on his heels to face Kendall. He got right up in his face too, much to my surprise, and I'm sure Kendall's as well.

"Really Kendall? Really? This coming from the guy who punched James in the face and pushed me into a wall? Who are you kidding? We're not in this together!" Carlos commented.

I didn't know what to make of this new Carlos. He wasn't his happy-go-lucky self anymore. When did this happen? Has he been like this a while now, and I just failed to notice? Now, he was confrontational and moody. Before, he hated fights and confrontations.

"Carlos…" I said.

He then turned to face me, getting in my face now.

"Save it, James! You're no better than Kendall! In fact, you've initiated more of the fist fights between the two of you than he has! I told you if something doesn't change…" he started to say.

"Is that it? Is that why you're doing whatever you're doing? Carlos, we're not fighting now," Kendall commented.

He then turned back to Kendall.

"Maybe the two of you aren't brawling right now, but you're not best buds either. I still can tell there's tension between you two, well, all three of you really," Carlos said.

"Carlos please? You're the only thing keeping us together," I remarked.

He turned his attention back to me.

"You think this is easy for me? Do you think I like keeping this from you? Well, I don't! Why don't you get it? I'm doing this to protect you!" Carlos exclaimed.

"What is _this_ exactly?" I asked.

Carlos completely ignored me as he turned around. He was almost completely out the door when Camille said something to him that stopped him in his tracks.

"He shot you, didn't he? My dad, I mean. That's why your jacket was bloody. That's why you were wearing a bulletproof vest. That's why my dad's on the run and your dad's chasing him," Camille said.

Carlos slowly turned back around. I couldn't even imagine how terrifying that must have been for Carlos. What if he hadn't had the bulletproof vest on? No wonder why he was so moody. No wonder why he was like a completely different Carlos.

"The blood in the IV bag strapped to the bulletproof vest was mine. My dad and I drew some blood from me last night while everyone else was asleep. We came up with a plan to fake my death so that Mr. Sanders would go on the run, and get away from here," Carlos informed us.

I had to admit that was really clever of Carlos and his dad. Something still didn't add up though. Why did Camille's dad target Carlos? There still was something Carlos wasn't telling us. It just didn't make sense that Mr. Sanders would just all of a sudden target Carlos of all people.

"Carlos, thank you," Camille said, tears of gratitude in both her eyes and her voice.

I knew there were two reasons Camille was thanking Carlos. One, with Mr. Sanders on the run, he wouldn't be able to terrorize Logan. Two, with Mr. Sanders on the run, Camille's mom got full custody of her. She had told me about her custody hearing today. I knew that since Mr. Sanders didn't show up, Camille's mom must have got full custody.

"Wait!" Kendall called out. "Why would Mr. Sanders try to kill you? You told us part of the truth, but there's still more you're not telling us, isn't there? What else do you know?"

Carlos completely ignored Kendall, and slipped out of Apartment 2J without saying another word.

To Be Continued…

**A/N: There. So Carlos told them the truth…sort of. I know you're probably all sick of my pessimism, but I don't think this was one of my best chapters. Maybe I'm just being too hard on myself. So, what did you all think of 'Big Time Live' tonight? I was ticked off because the opening segment had no sound, and I SUCK at reading lips! After the opening theme song, the sound was back, but it's like, "Gah! What did I miss?" I thought the episode was good, but not great. Haha, so much for my idea of Logan being the chef a la my fic "Chef Logan." I did love how James slapped Logan when he was wearing the pharaoh costume. "Slapping a pharaoh…check!" I also loved how the graph of BTR album sales was shown increasing exponentially when Logan was singing his solo. Hehe. I also loved how they were all wearing bandanas. Maybe James was right. Maybe bandanas could be their thing! *pounds fist on computer desk and waves hand in the air like words on a marquis* Bandanas!**


	37. Distraction

**A/N: Okay, so am I the only one who actually gives James a "What now?" (In SONG!) after he sings "Can I get a what now?" in the song 'Til I Forget About You'? Anyone else? No? Just me? *rubs back of neck in embarrassment* In case you haven't figured it out by now, I'm a weird one. I think I was dropped on my head too many times as a baby…**

**Disclaimer: In order to save up enough money to own the show Big Time Rush, given my current salary, I would have to completely obliterate the record for the longest a human being has ever lived. Just saying…**

**Big Time Disaster**

_Distraction_

_Stephanie's POV_

I was lounging by the pool with Jo. She was really depressed that Kendall had ended things with her. I was actually kind of jealous of her. At least she had a boyfriend for a while there. I've yet to get a boyfriend. The guy I liked was too busy pining after other girls. He probably didn't even know I liked him. I thought I made myself pretty clear at The Palm Woods first ever school dance.

It was frustrating. Carlos and his friends have been going through so much lately. Yeah, I held his hand when Logan got hauled off in handcuffs, but that's honestly the last time I've seen him. Everyone knew how Logan had almost died in juvenile hall. He actually did, but came back to life. Now, he was on life support. I wanted to be there for Carlos, but I didn't want to be too pushy. I guess I figured he would come to me if he needed me. I guess that means he doesn't need me.

"I still can't believe Kendall broke up with me," Jo commented.

"Maybe it's for the best," I replied.

She looked at me, and knitted her eyebrows in confusion. That probably wasn't the response she expected from me. I didn't even know where that came from. I should probably work on my brain-mouth filter…

"I mean he's cute and all…" I started to say.

That got me a death glare from Jo.

"I don't mean it like that. He's not my type. As I was saying, the two of you have like nothing in common," I explained.

"That's not true!" Jo countered.

I gave her a knowing look.

"Okay, maybe that's true. Sometimes, you don't have to be exactly alike to be right for each other though. I mean look at Logan and…" she trailed off.

I knew part of the reason for Jo's depression was that she had lost her best friend, Camille. That was kind of Jo's fault though. She was the one who said that she couldn't be Camille's best friend anymore. I'm one to talk, right? I gave Camille the cold shoulder too.

It's just I didn't understand _why_ Camille had ended things with Logan back then. Logan was so sweet. Much like Carlos. Then again, I never tried to understand why Camille had ended things with Logan. I never even gave her a chance to explain herself. I just judged her. It was easier for me to give Camille the cold shoulder though. I wasn't her best friend like Jo was. I hadn't known her as long as Jo had.

I had thought about apologizing to Camille. I just could never find the words to say. The more time passed, the more difficult finding the words became. Word around The Palm Woods was that Kendall, James, Carlos, and Camille were always at the hospital when they weren't busy with their careers. Although rumor has it that Camille stopped going to auditions altogether.

I realized now that Camille really does care about Logan. I don't know exactly what happened when Logan got stabbed, but I do know that Kendall, James, Carlos, and Camille were all there too. Much like Jo, Camille was probably depressed right now.

"Stephanie, Carlos is coming," Jo said, snapping me out of my thoughts.

I put a smile on my face as I looked up to see Carlos walking towards me. He didn't look happy though. He looked upset about something. I wasn't used to seeing this side of Carlos. He was usually so cheerful.

"Hey Carlos!" I greeted.

"Do you want to spend the day with me?" he asked.

Was I dreaming? Maybe I should pinch myself just to make sure. Some days I thought Carlos didn't even know I existed, and now not only was he talking to me, but he wanted to spend the day with me? I'd be a fool to pass this opportunity up.

"I thought you'd never ask," I said honestly.

He held out his hand. I put my hand in his, and stood up from my lounge chair. A tingling sensation traveled up and down my spine when our hands first touched.

"I'll talk to you later, Jo," I stated.

I hated leaving her like this, but I much rather spend time with Carlos and enjoy myself than be around Jo and listen to her tell me time and time again how she can't believe Kendall broke up with her.

Carlos and I left The Palm Woods pool hand-in-hand.

"Where are we going?" I asked, excited.

He shrugged his shoulders, and chuckled nervously.

"I don't know. I never actually thought I'd get this far," he replied.

"You're kidding, right?" I asked.

I thought it was incredibly endearing that he was nervous around me. I tried not to get my hopes up too high, but could it be that he liked me? I knew I liked him, but he just didn't know it. Why didn't Carlos see what a catch he was?

"You don't have to spend time with me if you don't want to," Carlos said, turning his head away from me.

I gently grabbed his chin, and turned it back around so he was facing me.

"Carlos, there is no place I'd rather be than right here with you," I replied.

"Why? I've been such a jerk to you, ignoring you like I have been," Carlos responded.

"Yeah, you have."

He looked at me with hurt eyes. There I go again. Think before you speak, Stephanie! Is that so hard?

"I mean you're going through a really difficult time right now, and I couldn't even begin to understand how you're feeling. It's probably not easy being around people when all you really want is to be alone. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I understand why you've been ignoring me," I explained.

There was a flicker of a smile on his face. Then, like the flame of a candle, it was extinguished just like that.

"I see you're wearing a different helmet," I commented.

"Palm Woods Park okay?" Carlos asked, immediately changing the subject.

I was curious why Carlos was wearing a white helmet, but I got the feeling it was a very sensitive subject for him, and I didn't want to pry.

"Sounds great," I replied.

XXXXX

Carlos and I were sitting on the ledge of the fountain at Palm Woods Park eating corn dogs and snow cones. I noticed him look over at me every now and then. When he saw me catch him looking at me, he would bashfully look away.

"Has anyone ever told you that you're really pretty?" he asked even though it looked like he was talking to the ground.

"Carlos, you're so sweet!" I replied.

I saw him look at me, and his eyes lit up. It was like the old Carlos was back.

"This is where you're supposed to say, 'You're not bad looking yourself, Carlos!' or something like that," Carlos said, giving me a goofy grin.

I rolled my eyes and cracked a smile. He really could be so adorable. I dipped my hand into the fountain, and splashed him with water. He had a shocked look on his face.

"You did not just do that," he said despite the fact that he had a huge grin on his face.

He put a hand into the fountain, and splashed me back.

"Oh, it's on!" I exclaimed.

The two of us started splashing each other like crazy, our corn dogs and snow cones long forgotten. We were both getting drenched, but we were too busy laughing and having fun to care. Then, we both started trying to dunk each other. Of course, it was only a fountain, so there was only like a foot, maybe two, of water.

"Carlos, stop it!" I said, giggling.

"Hey, you started it!" he retorted, snickering.

"Real mature, Carlos. Real mature."

I managed to dunk him. I threw my hands in the air in celebration.

"Ha! I win!" I remarked.

The next thing I knew, he pulled me down with him, dunking me in the fountain. We both lay in the fountain because it was more fun that way, and started another splash fight. He started splashing through the water much like a dog would dig through dirt in the backyard. I held my hands up in front of my face to try to protect myself from the onslaught.

"Okay, okay. You win!" I conceded.

He stopped splashing me. I saw he had a ridiculously smug look on his face. Beads of water dripped off his nose and chin. Somehow, Carlos looked even better wet. I felt my cheeks start to heat up at the thought. I turned my head away from him hoping he wouldn't notice.

"Hey Stephanie, are you okay?" he asked.

"Hold on. Give me a minute," I replied.

Stop blushing Stephanie! Stop blushing! He's going to see you!

The next thing I knew he was standing in front of me. He tilted my chin up so that his brown eyes were locked on mine.

"Are you…_blushing_? Well, well. I think we all learned something today," Carlos remarked, a huge smile on his face.

"Shut up," I said playfully, shoving him backwards in the fountain, his body splashing upon hitting the water.

I climbed out of the fountain. I sat back down on the ledge of the fountain. It wasn't long before Carlos joined me, sitting right beside me.

"Say it," he said.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I responded.

He draped an arm around my shoulder. I noticed he had picked up his wet corn dog and was eating it. Was he really eating that? Wasn't it all gross and soggy?

"You know _exactly_ what I'm talking about," he commented.

I noticed he devoured his wet corn dog. He even licked the little wooden stick clean. Then I saw him grab for mine.

"You're not going to eat that, are you?" he asked me.

"Nope. It's all yours," I answered.

He was scarfing down my wet corn dog now. I started to wonder if maybe he didn't so much have a stomach as a bottomless pit.

"I'll help you out. Repeat after me; Carlos," he said.

"Carlos," I repeated.

"I."

"I."

"Think."

"Think."

"You."

"You."

"Are."

"Are."

"Cute."

"Disgusting."

He slapped his forehead, before shaking his head left to right. I merely laughed.

"No, no, no. You were supposed to repeat what I said!" Carlos remarked.

"Come on! Wet corn dogs? Really? You could have just thrown it away and got a dry one," I said.

Carlos gasped. A smile tugged at the corners of my lips.

"Stephanie!" he scolded. "You don't _ever_ waste food!"

By now he had cleaned the wooden stick that once held my wet corn dog. He stood up from the ledge of the fountain excitedly. He grabbed my hand.

"Come on! I want to give you something!" he said excitedly, pulling me up to my feet, and dragging me behind him.

XXXXX

Carlos and I were in his bedroom. He was standing on top of a chair looking for something on the top shelf of his closet. I had no clue what he was looking for. With Carlos, there was no telling.

"Got it!" he exclaimed.

He stepped down from the chair with a shoe box in his arms. He set the shoe box down on his bed before pulling off the lid.

"Kendall and James make fun of me for needing a chair to reach the top shelf in the closet," Carlos said, a hint of sadness in his voice.

I noticed the shift in his mood, and it worried me.

"Are they…fighting…with you?" I asked.

He completely dodged my question as he continued to rummage through the contents of the shoe box.

"So, whenever I go on a first date with a girl, I give them something to kind of commemorate our time together," he said, holding his head up in the air pensively. "Of course most girls are freaked out by this, and not in a good way either."

He pulled out what looked like a coupon book, and handed it to me. I looked at the front of it. It was a coupon book for Carlos hugs.

"This is the part where I scare you away," he said, looking down at his feet.

I opened up the coupon book, and tore a coupon out. I handed it to him.

"I'd like to cash this in," I said, holding out my arms.

He looked up at me, and looked as excited as a little kid is to wake up on Christmas morning and see what Santa brought. The two of us shared a hug. A coupon book for Carlos hugs? How cute! There was even a little photo of him on each coupon too.

"Stephanie?" Carlos asked me, his voice meek.

"Yeah Carlos?" I replied.

"I'm leaving to go on tour in a few days. Will you still be here when I get back?"

I didn't understand why he was asking me that. Where else would I be? Where did I have to go? Why wouldn't I be here when he got back?

"I'm not sure I understand," I admitted out loud.

"I just need to know. I mean I always thought…_Logan_…would be here, and look how that turned out," Carlos said sadly.

At that moment in time, I felt so bad for Carlos. I hugged him even tighter. I felt something drip on the back of my neck. That was when I realized he was crying. I didn't know Logan that well. I didn't really know any of the Big Time Rush guys that well. I did know that the four of them were best friends. From the way Carlos was talking about Logan though, it made me wonder if Logan was Carlos' best friend.

I stroked the back of his head with my hand.

"I'll be right here waiting for you when you get back. I'm not going anywhere," I said.

To Be Continued…

**A/N: Stephanie's back! She's not a biotch either! I hope all of you Carlos/Stephanie fans loved this chapter. It got pretty fluffy there. There were times I honestly thought I would have to give myself the Heimlich. **


	38. Girlfriend

**A/N: You can tell me in reviews all you want which story you want me to take on as my next project, but the ONLY votes that will count are the ones on the actual poll on my profile page. So, if you want your voice to be heard, click on my profile page and go to the poll there. **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Blah, blah, blah…**

**Big Time Disaster**

_Girlfriend_

_Camille's POV_

Kendall, James, and I were at the hospital. It was the evening before Big Time Rush was supposed to leave on tour. Their flight was scheduled to leave early in the morning before visiting hours at the hospital, so this was their last chance to spend time with Logan before they left. I was surprised who came in with Carlos—Stephanie. The two of them were walking hand-in-hand.

Carlos had been avoiding me, Kendall, and James like the plague. Now I guess I knew who he was spending his time with instead. Were he and Stephanie an item now? Or were they just hanging out? Why do I even care? Stephanie made it pretty clear before that she didn't want to have anything to do with me when she gave me the cold shoulder.

"Hey Camille. I'm sorry for how I've treated you. Could we start over?" she asked.

I was completely beside myself. Did she seriously just ask that? As if I can just sweep it under the rug and forget that it ever happened. She ignored me for weeks, and _now_ she wants to talk to me? Not everything can be fixed with a simple, "I'm sorry."

"No, we can't just start over, Stephanie! It's nice of you to finally show up at the hospital to see Logan. He's only been here a week! Not to mention the other times he was here after having two seizures and getting beaten up. Where were you then? You can't just come here, give me a lame apology, and then expect everything to go back to the way they used to be when we were friends!" I exclaimed.

Carlos stepped in between the two of us. He looked me in the eyes, and gave me a pleading look.

"Camille, Stephanie's trying to apologize to you," he said.

"I don't care, Carlos! It's a little late for that!" I snapped.

Carlos looked shocked that I was yelling at him. Frankly, I was shocked that I had yelled at Carlos myself. I didn't mean to take it out on him. He was just trying to help. It was Stephanie I had a problem with.

"It's okay, Carlos. I can take it from here," Stephanie said. "I didn't come before because I knew you would be here, and I knew you probably wouldn't want me around. I'm sorry I wasn't here before, but I'm here now. I'll continue to come as long as you let me. If you don't want me to though, I completely understand."

It was hard staying mad at Stephanie when she was saying all the right things. I had thought she was ignoring me because she was just being cruel. Maybe that's how it was…at first. Now though she was being incredibly sweet. If I was being truthful, I could really use a girlfriend. I had my mom, sure, but I could use a girlfriend closer to my age. Stephanie certainly seemed willing enough to be that for me, and since Jo didn't want to…

"I heard about your parents getting a divorce. I'm so sorry, Camille," she stated.

At the mere mentioning of my father, I flinched. It just reminded me of how he blackmailed me into doing so many things for him. It just reminded me of how he was responsible for so many of the bad things that had happened to Logan.

"I was an idiot before. I thought you didn't care about Logan. I thought you were just being malicious. But through all of this, you have been by his side, and I now know that you care deeply about him. I didn't even want to hear your side of the story. I just judged you, and that's not like me at all. I'm actually a pretty objective person," Stephanie said.

My eyes started to brim with tears not because I was sad, but because I was beating myself up for being so standoff-ish with Stephanie when she was sincerely trying to make things right with me. I usually wasn't one to turn people away.

"And now I've made you cry. I'm such a horrible person. I should just go," she said, before turning around to leave.

She was almost completely out the door, when I called out to her.

"Stephanie, wait!" I exclaimed.

She turned back around to face me. I walked up to her, closing off the distance between us. Now, I was only a few feet away from her.

"I'm sorry too. I'd like to start over too. Friends?" I asked, hopefully.

"Friends," she replied.

The two of us hugged it out.

"Two girls hugging. Hot!" Carlos remarked.

I couldn't help but snicker, and I saw Stephanie roll her eyes.

"How's Jo?" I asked.

I don't know where that question came from. I guess it was because a part of me missed her. She was my best girlfriend. Now, a part of me felt guilty that I was kind of using Stephanie as my Jo replacement.

"She's pretty down. She misses you…and you," Stephanie said, looking over at Kendall.

"She didn't come with you?" I asked.

"No. She's back at The Palm Woods. She never leaves. She doesn't even go to auditions anymore."

_Kind of like me._ Except I didn't go to auditions because of Logan while she didn't go to auditions because of probably me and Kendall. It would be easy to stay mad at Jo if I knew she was going on her life without me, but she wasn't. She wasn't going to auditions. She no longer was doing what she used to love doing.

"I'm going to go talk to her," Kendall said.

"I'll come with you," I chimed in.

XXXXX

_Jo's POV_

I was in the lobby of The Palm Woods. I was staring blankly at a script I was reading. I could see the words, but I couldn't read them. Frustrated, I crumpled up the script into a ball, and tossed it towards the trash can. It bounced off the rim before falling on the floor. I didn't care enough to get up and dispose of it properly, so I just left it there.

What was the point of even getting out of bed every morning? I stopped going to auditions because I couldn't focus long enough to actually learn my lines. The reason I couldn't focus was because my heart ached. I missed my best friend, Camille. I missed my boyfriend, Kendall. Without them, my life just wasn't the same. Without them, it wasn't even much of a life at all.

"Hey," someone said to me. Wait a second. I knew that voice. I looked up, and saw Kendall standing there.

A part of me wanted to do nothing more but stand up and throw my arms around him. It's just I didn't want to seem clingy and desperate, even if that's what I was.

"I'm sorry I broke up with you. Stephanie told me that you're depressed. I know I'm to blame. I want to make it up to you. Do you think we could try being…us…again?" he asked.

"I don't know, Kendall," I said honestly. "I don't get why you had to break up with me at all. I know you were worried about Logan. I was too. He's my friend too. Just because you were spending time with me didn't mean you couldn't think about Logan. I realize he's always going to be on your mind and in your thoughts."

Kendall frowned.

"See? But that's just it. It's not fair to you. You deserve nothing less than my undivided attention," he commented.

"Kendall, you can't give me your undivided attention. Logan had two seizures, he was beaten up in juvie. He nearly got stabbed to death. Of course he's going to be on your mind. Don't worry about not being able to give me your undivided attention. I never said I wanted your undivided attention. I'm perfectly content taking whatever amount of attention I can get," I replied.

"Are you saying what I think you're saying? Do you want to go back to being a couple?"

I stood up from my chair, got up on my tiptoes, and planted a kiss on his lips.

"Does that answer your question?" I remarked.

"Hey Jo," Camille said.

I looked past Kendall to see Camille standing by the door to the pool. I was surprised to see her. She actually looked sorry for me. I didn't understand that at all. I'm the one who said that I couldn't be best friends with her.

"I'll let you two talk," Kendall said, before kissing the top of my head, and leaving.

"I'm sorry," we both blurted out at the same time.

"I'm sorry I made you depressed. You should know though that my dad was blackmailing me. He blackmailed me into breaking up with Logan back then. He blackmailed me into testifying against my mother in court. He was the one calling the shots, not me. I was just…afraid to stand up to him," Camille explained.

"I'm sorry too, Camille. I'm sorry it took me so long to apologize to you. I should've known better than to believe that you were being mean to Logan just for the sake of being mean to him. You're not like that at all. The Jennifers? Definitely. You? Nope. Everyone's seen how much you care about him. You're always at the hospital when they'll allow you to be. You never go to auditions anymore because of that," I said.

The two of us hugged, and I was glad that Carlos wasn't around to comment about it this time around.

"I just want Logan to wake up," Camille said, tears streaming down her face.

"I know. He will. He'll pull through this, Camille," I responded.

"What if he doesn't? I've never liked any guy as much as I like Logan, and I am so scared that I'm going to lose him."

"Camille, stop it! You can't think like that, okay? If we've learned anything about Logan from all of this, it's that he's a fighter. Too many people are pulling for him for him to just stop fighting."

"He's been on life support for a week though, and there still hasn't been any improvement!"

"Camille, he just got brutally stabbed. His body needs time to recover. That's all. His body can't recover overnight. It takes time."

I refused to believe that Logan wouldn't pull through. Something else I learned through all of this was how important he was to so many people. Word travels fast here, and everyone knew how Kendall, James, and Carlos were falling apart. Kendall broke up with me. Stephanie and I stopped being friends with Camille for a while there.

"I'm going to head back to the hospital to see Logan. Do you want to come with me?" Camille asked.

"I'd like that," I answered.

"You can come out now, Kendall."

Kendall popped out from behind some plants. He walked over to the two of us, draping an arm over my shoulder.

"So, are you two friends again?" he asked.

"Yeah, I think we are," I replied.

Camille smiled in agreement.

XXXXX

_James' POV_

Kendall and Camille returned to the hospital with Jo in tow. They had all made up with each other from the looks of things. I was glad. With me, Kendall, and Carlos leaving on tour, hopefully Stephanie, Jo, and Camille would come visit Logan every day for us.

I watched Carlos hold Stephanie in his arms, and Kendall hold Jo in his arms. I felt a twinge of pain. Everyone had a girlfriend. Everyone but me. Logan had Camille. I slipped out of the room quietly. Everyone was too busy with their girlfriends to notice…or so I thought.

"Are you okay?" Camille asked.

I turned around. She had a concerned look on her face.

"It's stupid. I'm just being selfish," I replied, wiping a solitary tear from my cheek with my sleeve.

Camille was kind of the last person I wanted to confide in. I was supposed to be mad at her. After all, if she and Logan had never met, none of this would have even happened. Then, I would have my best friend back.

"James, I know you hate me, but talk to me. If not me, then someone. Just don't keep this bottled up inside of you," she urged.

I spun around, anger in my eyes.

"You know what? I _do_ hate you! I'm so glad you made up with everyone and you're all buddy-buddy again! If you hadn't gone to visit Logan that day, he wouldn't have been stabbed trying to protect you! Better yet, if you had never met Logan at all, then none of this would have happened! His seizures, his beatings, his getting arrested, his being on life support! I can't talk to anyone about this! You're all to blame for why I'm so upset! Carlos has Stephanie. Kendall has Jo. You have Logan. Who do I have? No one is there for me to hug! To make matters worse, my dream is finally coming true, but instead of celebrating that, I feel awful because I thought Logan would be there with me when I went on tour! How am I supposed to sing and dance in front of an audience when my best friend is in a hospital on life support?" I shouted.

"James…" Camille said sympathetically.

"Go away Camille! I don't need your pity! I don't want your pity!"

Now I was fully crying. I think there were both tears of anger and tears of sadness. I used to be able to go to Carlos and talk about stuff like this, but he's been avoiding me lately. He's been avoiding Camille and Kendall too. I really had no one anymore. I didn't know what to do because this has never happened to me before.

Camille gently grabbed my arm.

"James, look at it this way. If I had never met Logan, he would never have found happiness. You do want him to be happy, don't you? You do want him to find someone special, don't you? Well, I really believe that someone is me. Logan would want you to go on tour and enjoy it. I don't know. Maybe you could dedicate each concert to him, that way even though he can't go on tour with you, he can still be a part of it," she suggested.

"That's actually a really good idea. Thanks, Camille," I said, turning around.

Our eyes locked on one another. I saw her stand up on her tiptoes. We both leaned in. I had no idea what was happening, but I couldn't seem to stop it. It didn't really make sense. Camille wasn't really my type, but yet here we were both leaning in. Then, I thought about Logan. I pulled back just before we would have kissed.

"I can't do this. You're with Logan, and he's my best friend," I said.

"You're right. I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking. Let's just keep this between us, okay?" she replied.

"Absolutely. I mean there's no reason to tell anyone because nothing happened."

"Agreed."

Camille went back into Logan's hospital room. I waited a little while before I headed back in. I didn't want it to look to suspicious. As I was waiting, I had one thought on my mind—_What just almost happened?_

To Be Continued…

**A/N: Okay, so I seriously want to just scrap this whole chapter. It sucks. I'm sorry. **


	39. Life or Death

**A/N: So now people are starting to include flames in their reviews. I already don't have a whole lot of self-confidence, and this just destroys the little self-confidence I do have. For those of you who genuinely think I'm a good writer, and genuinely like this story, and have stuck by me, thank you from the bottom of my heart. You have no idea how much that means to me. **

**Disclaimer: I still don't own anything.**

**Big Time Disaster**

_Life or Death _

_Kendall's POV_

James, Carlos, and I just got back from tour. The first thing we wanted to do when we got back to L.A. was see Logan. We went to the hospital hoping that he wasn't there anymore. We were hopeful that he had made a full recovery while we were gone. Our hopes were dashed when we arrived to see that Logan was still on life support. To make matters worse, he had two visitors that I didn't particularly care to see.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, my voice dripping with venom.

"We're here to see our son of course. We _are_ his parents," Logan's dad answered.

My blood was boiling. Logan's "parents" couldn't be bothered to come visit their son when he had his seizures. They were nowhere to be seen after he had been beaten so severely he had to be admitted to a hospital. Where were they when he nearly died of a stab wound?

"Nice of you to finally stop by. He's only been on life support for seven weeks!" I sarcastically remarked.

"What are you talking about? We've been here for six weeks! Where have you been?" Logan's mom replied.

I glanced to my right and to my left and saw that Carlos and James were equally shocked by this turn of events. I was personally really offended that Logan's parents were trying to act like they were these caring, loving parents when the reality was that I knew better.

"What about when Logan first got stabbed? Where were you then?" James demanded, visibly upset.

"Maybe if _someone_ would have called and told us what was going on…" Logan's dad commented.

"It was all over the news!" I exclaimed, throwing my hands up in frustration.

"Don't use that tone of voice with me, young man! What kind of kids are you raising?" Logan's dad asked my mother.

I cannot believe he just asked my mom that question. How dare he question my mom's parenting skills! She has more parenting in her pinky finger than Logan's parents have between the two of them combined!

"Excuse me? I am a great parent!" my mom retorted.

"Right. Just like you're a great guardian. Seriously, we leave Logan in your care, and look what happens," Logan's mom remarked.

"That wasn't my mom's fault!" I countered.

"Yeah! Mrs. Knight is an awesome guardian!" Carlos added.

It was at this moment that Dr. Taylor entered the room. He was surprised that there were so many people in the room. Something about him was off. There was something that was troubling him. It looked like there were words on the tip of his tongue, but he was having a hard time getting them out.

"First of all, I know you are all here for Logan, but there are too many people in the room at one time. He really should only have three, maybe four visitors at a time. Secondly, I don't know how to say this, so I'll just come right out and say it; you need to decide if you want to take Logan off of life support or not. He's been on it for seven weeks now, and there's no telling if there's been any improvement or not. The only way of knowing is to take him off life support and see. However, if we do that, we might…he might…it's very possible that life support is the only thing keeping him alive," Dr. Taylor explained.

A silence fell upon the room. No one knew what to do or say at that moment. We were all stunned. How could any of us possibly make a decision like that? Logan's fate was in our hands; we had to choose—life or death.

"Excuse me," Camille said, brushing past all of us in a hurry to leave the room. She was emotionally distraught. We all were.

"Jo and I will go check on her," Stephanie said, as she and Jo both left the room.

I looked over at Carlos and James. Carlos sunk to his knees, tears streaming down his cheeks. Meanwhile, James' jaw had dropped, and a single tear leaked from the corner of his eye. I curled my hands into fists and clenched them tightly. I mentally was trying to convince myself that this wasn't happening. I wasn't doing a very good job of it though.

"But we're his parents, so ultimately the decision is ours to make, right?" Logan's dad asked.

I turned to glare at Mr. Mitchell, but he kept facing forward, refusing to meet my gaze.

"Well yes, but seeing how there are so many people who care about your son, I would advise you to take their opinions into consideration when you make your decision. I'll give you some time to think about this," Dr. Taylor said before leaving the room.

Mrs. Mitchell went to say something, but Carlos spoke before she could get anything out.

"Don't say it! Don't even think it! We're not taking Logan off life support!" Carlos exclaimed, his voice shaky.

"That's not your call to make," Mr. Mitchell stated.

Just when I thought Logan's parents couldn't sink any lower, they somehow managed it. How could the two of them even be considering pulling the plug on their son's life? What kind of parents does that make them? What? Was Logan such an inconvenience to them that they just wanted to finally be rid of him?

"You heard what Logan's doctor said! You're supposed to take our opinions into consideration! We're his best friends! We've been there for him over the years a _whole lot more_ than you two!" James remarked.

"I'll go tell the girls what's going on," my mom said, before leaving the room.

I didn't care if there was one visitor too many in the room with Logan. I don't know about James and Carlos, but I wasn't going anywhere. If anyone was leaving the room, it would be the two people who called themselves Logan's parents.

"How can you be so heartless? He's your son!" I shouted.

"You think this is easy for us? It's not!" Mrs. Mitchell shot back.

"Oh yeah, and I can tell you're really struggling with this," James commented sarcastically.

These are the same two people who back when we lived in Minnesota, never seemed to notice when Logan would come home from school after being victimized by bullies. These are the same two people who Logan tried so hard to impress, but never could quite succeed. These are the same two people who couldn't be bothered to see Logan during his previous hospital stays because he wasn't dying.

I was surprised when I saw tears come from the eyes of Mrs. Mitchell. As much as I wanted to believe they were fake tears, I had a feeling they weren't.

"I know you don't think I know my son, but I do. I gave birth to him. Even before that, he was a part of me for nine months. He'd want to live, but not like this. These machines, life support, this isn't living," Mrs. Mitchell said.

"You're right," I replied. "I don't think you know your son. He'd want to live, no matter what it took. Logan's a fighter. If he wasn't, he would have given up after having his seizures. He would have given up after he was beaten up at juvie. He didn't though. He came back to us then, and he'll come back to us now."

I sounded so sure of myself, but honestly, I wasn't sure at all. I wanted to be right. I just had too many doubts to be fully convinced. Taking Logan off life support was just too big of a risk. I knew Logan would feel the same way. He never really was a risk taker.

"If that were true, don't you think he would have come back to us by now? He's been on life support for seven weeks," Mr. Mitchell said.

"Please," Carlos begged. "Please don't do this. Please don't take him off life support."

James knelt down beside Carlos and wrapped his arms around him in an embrace. Carlos rested his head against James' shoulder and allowed his tears to flow freely.

"I'm sorry, but it's our decision to make, and my wife and I have already made up our minds," Mr. Mitchell stated.

His lame apology didn't mean a thing to me. It would if he had really meant it, but I knew better than that.

"Then could you at least let the three of us spend some time with Logan before you pull the plug? So we could say our…" James started to say before having to stop to regain his composure. "…goodbyes."

Mr. and Mrs. Mitchell actually left the room so that James, Carlos, and I could be alone with Logan. Carlos and James sat on one side of Logan's bed. I sat on the other side. I don't think any of us really knew what to say. This couldn't really be goodbye, could it? It wasn't fair! Logan never got to say goodbye to us just like when we thought he had died after the stabbing.

After sitting in silence for I don't even know how long, James was the first to break the silence.

"Man, you should have seen all the Logan signs in the crowd. I'm actually kind of jealous. Yeah, there were definitely some disappointed Logan fans while we were on tour. There were 'We want Logan' chants at every concert. Plus, when they saw that it was just the three of us, we actually got booed," James said to Logan.

"We did okay though…I guess. Gustavo yelled at us a lot after each concert. It just wasn't the same without you. It just wasn't the same with just us three. There's no Big Time Rush without you, Logie," I added.

"You're going to go on the next tour with us though. You have to! Whatever happened to, 'You can't get rid of me that easy?' I'm not ready to let you go. This isn't goodbye. It can't be! Hey, guess what? Stephanie and I are kind of seeing each other now. Remember when we thought The Palm Woods was haunted, and you and I went ghost hunting? Of course, you kept telling me there was no such thing as ghosts. Since The Palm Woods Ghost was really Stephanie, I guess you were right too. Remember how you kept calling my ecto net a fishing net? Anyways, once you get better, and you _will_ get better, maybe you and I could go on a double date—you and Camille and me and Stephanie," Carlos said.

I didn't understand how Carlos could be so optimistic. Logan's parents had pretty much condemned their son to death. They were planning on taking him off life support. Now that I thought about it, when did I become so pessimistic? When did I become afraid of taking a risk? I was dwelling on the negative, but what if taking Logan off life support didn't have to mean Logan dying? What if Logan's heart was strong enough to beat on its own without the assistance of any machine? There was really only one way of knowing…

"We should let Logan's parents pull the plug," I said out loud.

James stood up out of his chair.

"Are you crazy?" he remarked.

"Kendall," Carlos' voice cracked. "You don't mean that."

I stood up out of my chair.

"Hear me out. You want Logan back, don't you?" I asked.

"Yeah," James and Carlos replied simultaneously.

"Okay, well the only way we're going to get Logan back—our Logan—is if we get him off life support. I don't know what it is, but something tells me that Logan's going to be fine if we take him off life support. Maybe he's trying to communicate with me or send me a signal or something, but all of a sudden, I have this feeling that Logan's ready to come back to us. You two just have to trust me," I stated.

James and Carlos exchanged looks with each other. It wasn't surprising what expressions they wore on their faces; James had a look of doubt etched on his facial features. Carlos, on the other hand, had a hopeful 'This could work' look written all over his face.

"Trust you? Trust you! I'm sorry, but I can't do that. The last time I tried that, Logan got stabbed and died. So sorry, but I don't trust you, Kendall! Even if I'm the only one who is against taking Logan off life support, I'll hold my ground, because I believe it's the right thing to do! I rather have Logan kept alive even if it is by machines than to have Logan not be alive at all," James commented.

"Look, you don't have to keep throwing it in my face! I know I was responsible for Logan getting stabbed! Believe me; I have to live with that guilt every morning I wake up. I have to live with that guilt every time I look at my reflection in the mirror. I don't want to fight with you anymore. You know something else? Logan wouldn't want you and me to fight anymore either," I replied.

James averted his gaze. That was his way of begrudgingly acknowledging that I had a point.

"I know it's ultimately Logan's parents' decision, but I think we should put this to a vote, so they know how everyone feels," Carlos suggested.

The three of us went out to the waiting room, and after telling everyone about the vote, we went around and all of us cast our vote.

"I vote to take Logan off life support," Mrs. Mitchell said.

"I also vote to take Logan off life support," Mr. Mitchell stated.

"I vote to keep Logan on life support," Camille said.

"I vote to keep Logan on life support," Stephanie announced.

"I vote to keep Logan on life support," my mom declared.

"I vote to take Logan off life support," Carlos said.

"I vote to take Logan off life support," I stated.

"I vote to keep Logan on life support," Jo announced.

It all came down to James' vote. Well…maybe. Who knew if Mr. and Mrs. Mitchell would even go with the decision that got the majority of the votes? My guess was that if it was to pull the plug, they would be all for it. If it wasn't, they would pull the plug anyways.

James looked first at Carlos and then at me. With my eyes alone, I begged for him to vote with me and Carlos. James sighed deeply.

"I vote to…pull the plug," James said.

Words couldn't even express all that one statement meant.

"I'll go tell Dr. Taylor," Mrs. Mitchell told us, before leaving.

Camille, Stephanie, my mom, and Jo all had incredulous looks on their faces.

"What was that?" they demanded.

"We're getting Logan back. That's what that was," I replied.

I refused to believe that this plan would go any differently than how I hoped it would. I was taking a tremendous leap of faith here, and I just hoped I wasn't leaping off a cliff. All nine of us crowded into Logan's small hospital room as Dr. Taylor went over to the machines that made up the life support Logan was on.

"Are you ready?" Dr. Taylor asked.

Mrs. Mitchell turned to look at me, and gave me a smile of gratitude. I honestly didn't know how to respond to that.

Dr. Taylor pulled the plug on Logan's life support.

To Be Continued…


	40. Waiting Game

**A/N: Thank you for the overwhelming support and encouragement last chapter after I was feeling down. You (and you know who you are) are the best!**

**Disclaimer: I tried sending e-mails and snail mail to Nickelodeon requesting they add me to their staff. I even used an alias! It still got stamped "Return to Sender." I guess that means I don't own Big Time Rush.**

**Big Time Disaster**

_Waiting Game_

_3__rd__ Person Omniscient POV_

Everyone leaned in closer and strained their ears hoping to hear the beeping of a heart monitor that for once, wouldn't be annoying. This time around, it would mean that Logan was still alive. This time around, it would mean that they had made the right decision by taking him off life support. It was a very risky move. So long as he was on life support though, no one could be certain if it was machines keeping Logan alive or Logan himself.

_Beep…beep…beep…_Of course there would still be a heartbeat at first. Life support kept his heart beating. The real question would his heart continue to beat, or would it come to a stop? If it came to a stop, then there would be no blood flowing to the brain. There would be no blood flowing period.

Even though there had been only two options to vote on, everyone in Logan's hospital room could be split into three groups; those who wanted to keep Logan on life support. Those who wanted to take him off life support for the right reasons. Then there were those who wanted to take Logan off life support for the wrong reasons. Seven of the nine people had Logan's best interests in mind.

However, Logan's parents did not. They had been in L.A. for six weeks now. They just wanted to go back home to Minnesota. This was the most time they've spent with their son at one time since…well, since ever. It's not like they had anywhere else to go in L.A. They didn't really know anyone here. They didn't even have money for a rental car. To their credit though, every day they spent the entire duration of visiting hours at their son's bedside. They only really went back to their hotel when visiting hours were over.

Kendall glanced up on the clock hanging on the wall. Ironically, the time was 9:11 a.m. That had also been Logan's time of death back in juvenile hall after Sid had stabbed him.

Dr. Taylor knew that there were too many people in the room at one time, but he didn't have the heart to ask any of them to leave. Even if he did, there would be no way any of them would, especially not now. He knew that Logan was a very lucky young man. When Sid had stabbed him, the knife narrowly missed nicking Logan's heart. It was close though—too close. Only a couple of millimeters difference, and they wouldn't even be doing this right now.

There were only six dry eyes in the room. Everyone else was crying, or at the very least, their eyes were brimming with tears. Mr. Mitchell wasn't crying. Dr. Taylor wasn't crying. The third pair of dry eyes belonged to Logan himself. Even Mrs. Mitchell shed silent tears as she could do nothing but watch and wait to see what would happen to her son.

Camille was sitting at Logan's bedside. Jo and Stephanie were on either side of her. Camille had sandwiched one of Logan's hands in both of hers. Tears were rolling down her cheeks. It broke her heart to think that she might never hear Logan say, "I love you." It broke her heart that she might never see Logan smile that million dollar smile of his.

"Logan, want to hear something stupid? Remember when you, Carlos, and Kendall serenaded Jo by singing 'Any Kind of Guy' to her? Well, I was up there with her, and when you were singing, I pretended you were singing to me," Camille said.

Jo put her hand on Camille's shoulder. She remembered that day like it was yesterday. She was new to The Palm Woods, and Kendall, James, Carlos, and Logan were all vying for her attention. She lied about having a boyfriend so that she wouldn't have to deal with the four of them fighting over her every day. That was also the day Camille told her, "Logan's mine."

"Remember when you tried to ask me out to the school dance? You were really horrible at that, by the way. However, you did get it right…eventually. Let's see you walked away after saying 'Bleep! Blap! Bloop!' You used cue cards. You knocked me into the pool with a Frisbee. You yelled at me to, 'Go away!' Did I miss anything?" Camille asked.

James remembered that all too well. He was so honored that Logan had come to him for advice. Usually, everyone went to Kendall for help because he always seemed to have the answers. He had given Logan good advice—be confident and relaxed. It's just Logan was so socially awkward around girls he liked. Well, there was that, and there was also the fact that was the first time he had ever asked a girl out before. Tears fell unchecked down the sides of James' face.

"Remember how later that night, you were nervous about your first performance in front of an audience? I walked in the dressing room hoping to catch you before your performance. You were still in your prince costume," Camille said.

"Wait. Logan was nervous?" Carlos asked.

This was news to Kendall, James, and Carlos. They had figured like they had been, Logan was excited to perform for the first time.

"Why didn't he say anything to us then?" Kendall inquired.

"He didn't want you to worry about him for starters. Secondly, he felt like you guys wouldn't understand. Logan told me that the three of you had nothing to be nervous about. He said Carlos was too excited to be nervous. He said James' dream was too close to coming true to be nervous. He said Kendall was too confident in his abilities to be nervous. Logan told me that if anyone was going to mess up your guys' first performance in front of an audience, it would be him," Camille answered.

Kendall, James, and Carlos exchanged glances with one another. They should have known better. They should have known that Logan would be pessimistic about his first performance in front of an audience. They should have known that Logan would doubt himself. But they didn't. They felt awful. What kind of friends did that make them? They weren't even there to reassure him. Luckily though, he had Camille.

"I gave him a 'good luck' kiss on the lips. I promised him a second kiss after the performance no matter what happened. That got him to get changed, and that got him out on stage," Camille explained.

_Beep…beep…beeeeeeeeeeep._

"He's flat lining. We're losing him. He's going into cardiac arrest. Everyone clear out," Dr. Taylor ordered.

XXXXX

The nine of them were in the waiting room anxious to find out whether or not Dr. Taylor was able to save Logan. It seemed like they had been waiting for an eternity. Everyone was coping in vastly different ways.

Carlos was pacing back and forth nervously. He kept glancing at the closed door to Logan's hospital room expecting it to open anytime soon. Stephanie watched Carlos like a hawk afraid to take her eyes off him for one second. She wanted to say something to him, but she wasn't sure what to say to him. She didn't want to give him false hope. However, she didn't want to think it was hopeless either.

Kendall was sitting in one of the chairs. His elbows were propped up on his knees, and his face was buried in his hands. If it hadn't been for the way his body would tremble at random intervals, no one would even have known he was crying. He was the one who had convinced James and Carlos to take Logan off life support. Now they might have lost him forever. Kendall couldn't stand the guilt. Jo rested her head on Kendall's shoulder, and rubbed small circles in his back, while crying silent tears herself.

Mr. Mitchell had gathered his wife in his arms, as she wept into his shirt. Through it all, Mr. Mitchell somehow managed to remain stone-faced. However, if one looked closely, there was disbelief on his face.

Mrs. Knight had a hand on her son's shoulder. Her chin was resting on top of his head, and every now and then, she would kiss the top of his head. She didn't want to be pessimistic, but she was fearful of what might happen to Kendall if Logan didn't make it. How could she possibly take away the suffocating guilt he would no doubt feel?

James opted not to sit in one of the chairs. He was seated on the floor with his back pressed firmly—maybe more firmly than necessary—against the wall. Tears poured from his eyes. He had been the deciding vote. The tie breaker. It looked like he had made the wrong choice. James was completely beside himself. He couldn't believe that he might have been singlehandedly responsible for the death of his best friend. His body shook violently from the sobs that rocked his body and his heart right to the core.

However, no one was crying any louder than Camille. She was in complete hysterics. She had waited her whole life for a guy like Logan to come along, and now…Camille always imagined she and Logan would be one of those famous celebrity couples someday. She had always envisioned the two of them having kids together. She always thought they would grow old together. Camille always thought the two of them would race around a nursing home in wheelchairs while Logan lectured her about how unsafe it was to be traveling via wheelchair at such a high velocity.

Every second that ticked by seemed more like a minute. Every minute that passed felt more like an hour. Nobody had any idea what was going on in Logan's hospital room. Had they saved him? Were they still trying to save him? Or was he already…gone? Whatever the case may be, why hadn't Dr. Taylor come to tell them anything yet? The wait was agonizing.

At long last, Dr. Taylor emerged from Logan's hospital room. Everyone held their breath. It was the moment of truth. Everyone tried to read Dr. Taylor's face to get some hint as to whether the news was good or bad. He kept a straight face. It was all business. No one quite knew what to make of that. There wasn't even the subtlest hint of a smile. So was it bad news? However, there wasn't even the tiniest trace of a frown. So was it good news?

"I won't beat around the bush. Instead, I'll get straight to the point. He's alive. In all my years as a doctor, I have never seen someone with such a will to live as Logan. He's quite a fighter," Dr. Taylor announced.

Everyone was so relieved that all personal grudges were set aside as they all hugged one another. Even Mr. and Mrs. Mitchell received hugs. People were still crying. Only this time, they were tears of joy.

"Can we see him?" Kendall asked.

"Yes, but only…" Dr. Taylor started to say before everyone made a mad dash for Logan's hospital room. "Three or four people at a time."

Everyone had huddled around Logan's hospital bed. The only machine Logan was connected to now was a heart monitor. It steadily beeped, and that was the sweetest sound in the world to all of them.

Logan's eyelids fluttered open for the briefest of moments before he squeezed his eyes shut tightly. He tentatively opened them up again, and shielded his eyes from the bright light with one of his hands.

"Logan? Logan!" Camille beamed excitedly, throwing her arms around him in an enthusiastic hug.

"Oomph!" Logan hoarsely said as the forcefulness of the gesture surprised him. "I missed you too, Camille."

"I thought…I thought I…lost you. Don't ever…do that…to me…again!" Camille remarked, her sentence fragmented by sobs.

Carlos frowned as he watched Camille hug Logan. He wanted his turn too. Sure Camille was Logan's girlfriend, but still…As she was hugging him, Logan's eyes met Carlos' and he saw the longing in them.

"I think Carlos wants his turn," Logan said, his voice dry and cracked from not using it in so long.

Camille reluctantly pulled back. She used the back of her hand to wipe the tears from her eyes. No sooner did their embrace end did Carlos hug Logan, not caring if the manner with which he initiated the hug wasn't very bromantic. He was far too glad his best friend was alive to care what people might think.

"I told you my helmet would work!" Carlos boasted, grinning widely.

"So you and Stephanie, huh? About time," Logan remarked, playfully nudging Carlos in the ribs with his elbow.

Carlos pulled back from his embrace. He blushed wildly and rubbed the back of his neck.

"You…heard…that?" Carlos asked.

"Oh, I see. Logan doesn't need a coupon to get a Carlos hug, but I do," Stephanie stated, her hands on her hips despite the fact that she couldn't hide a smile that tugged at her lips.

"Uh…I-I-I…" Carlos stammered.

Everyone started laughing at Carlos which only made him blush even more.

"It's good to have you back, man!" James said, settling for a bromantic hug with Logan.

Logan went to reply, but instead coughed a few times. Kendall quickly poured Logan some water into a small plastic cup, before giving it to Logan, who drank it greedily. The cool liquid felt so good as it went down his throat.

"It's good to be back," Logan responded. "How long have I been here?"

Kendall was the next one to give Logan a bromantic hug. "Seven weeks. You gave us all quite a scare, Logie," Kendall stated.

"I'm sorry," Logan replied, looking down at his lap.

After Kendall finished hugging Logan, it was Jo's turn.

"You have nothing to apologize for. Welcome back, Logan," Jo said, hugging Logan.

Stephanie was the next one to hug Logan.

"I'm glad you're better, Logan," she said.

"Thanks, Stephanie," Logan replied.

Mrs. Knight hugged Logan next.

"How are you feeling sweetie?" she asked.

Logan was really drowsy. It was a struggle just to keep his eyes open. He felt silly though. He had been sleeping for seven weeks. How much more sleep did he need? Plus, he was in a great deal of pain, but he merely clenched his teeth and tried his best to push it to the back of his mind. He didn't want anyone to worry about him anymore than they already had.

"All things considered, I'm okay," Logan answered.

When Mrs. Knight pulled back from her hug, Logan's eyes landed on his parents for the first time. His eyes started to brim with tears. He was so happy that they had come. They were the last people he expected to be here, yet here they were.

"Hi, Logan. I'm so glad my baby boy is back," Mrs. Mitchell said wrapping her arms around Logan in an embrace.

Logan was stunned by the gesture. He was even more stunned by the fact that she called him her 'baby boy.' He hadn't heard her call him that since he was in pre-school.

"Hey Mom," Logan said, unsure what to say.

Logan felt his dad join in on the hug.

"When did you two get here?" Logan inquired.

"Six weeks ago," Mr. Mitchell responded.

"You didn't have to come all the way out here for me," Logan said.

"Don't be ridiculous. Of course we did," Mrs. Mitchell commented.

Kendall, James, and Carlos watched uneasily as Logan's parents held Logan in their arms. They had never paid attention to Logan before. It took Logan almost dying for them to come out and see their son. Logan looked so glad that his parents were actually paying attention to him. Kendall, James, and Carlos had a sinking feeling in the pit of their stomach that even though they had just got Logan back, they were about to lose him—only this time to his parents.

To Be Continued…

**A/N: I think I can finally see the finish line. You know how some time back I predicted this story would have 40-50 chapters? Well, I think I was right with 50. I think I can finish this in 50 chapters. Oh, and for those of you not aware, last I checked for my next project, it looks like Logan/Camille angst/romance is beating Carlos/Logan (not slash) horror/humor 12 votes to 6. Don't like that result? Do something about it (unless you already have voted, then I guess you can't…).**


	41. Heart to Hearts

**A/N: You know what I realized? Jo's last name on the show is Taylor, and Logan's doctor's last name in this story is Taylor. That really was a coincidence. I used the name Dr. Taylor before Jo's last name was revealed on the show. Anyways, yeah they're not related just in case you were wondering. **

**Disclaimer: Yes, I bought the franchise rights to Big Time Rush since my last update. You got me. *insert sarcasm***

**Big Time Disaster**

_Heart to Hearts_

_Logan's POV_

I was supposed to get released from the hospital today. Dr. Taylor had given me a prescription for some pain meds that I was to pick up at the pharmacy on my way home. The pain meds were a double-edged sword. On the one hand, they made the pain go away. On the other hand, they made me drowsy. I had been out for seven weeks. I wanted to do nothing more but talk to my friends and loved ones. I needed to be conscious to do that.

It was hard to really get a good read on anyone. They were certainly acting nice and civil toward one another. A part of me though couldn't help but wonder if that was all a ruse. I had heard everything they had said to me. They probably didn't think I could even hear them when I was on life support, but I could, I did. Now that I was alive though, maybe things would improve.

Dr. Taylor had long since given up on keeping the number of visitors I had limited to three or four. Everyone but Jo was here. She had an audition to go to, but she said she'd stop by afterwards. I wanted to talk to everyone individually. Everyone left the room but Stephanie.

"How are you doing, Logan?" she asked.

"I'm doing better. Thanks," I replied.

I could tell that something was troubling her. I just wished I knew what it was. I actually kind of felt guilty that I didn't know Stephanie better. She was part of our group, but she was more of a mutual friend. We hadn't really taken the time to get to know one another.

"What's wrong? I can tell you have something on your mind," I said.

Stephanie looked at me, and I gave her a small, sympathetic smile. She took a deep breath before she answered me.

"I don't know why, but I have this feeling that Carlos is hiding something from me. I'm not sure what it is, but…I don't even know what I'm saying," she stated.

I vaguely recalled Carlos promising me that he would find everyone who was responsible for all the bad things that had happened to me, and make them pay. I suddenly felt sick to my stomach. I couldn't stand the thought of Carlos doing anything that would put himself in danger. How much did he know? What did he know? I'd have to ask him when I talked to him later.

"I'll talk to him and see what I can find out," I assured her.

"Thanks," she responded.

"You're welcome. So when did you and Carlos start seeing each other?"

I wasn't sure why, but there was sadness in her eyes. She tried to hide it by averting her gaze, but I had already seen it. I felt bad for her. I don't know why she was sad. She and Carlos were perfect for each other. I always knew they liked each other. I'm just glad they finally admitted it to one another.

"It was the week before they went on…tour," she said, afraid of even mentioning the tour to me. "He wasn't getting along with Kendall, James, and Camille at the time. I mean I know I was only a distraction for him, but it was all good. He still came to me. He still wanted to spend time with me. In a weird sort of way, I feel like I should be thanking Kendall, James, and Camille. If they had been getting along with Carlos at the time, he and I probably never would have got together."

Now it made sense why there was sadness in Stephanie's eyes. She honestly thought that her relationship with Carlos had started under false pretenses.

"I don't believe that at all. You and Carlos would have got together no matter what. Maybe it started off as you being a distraction for Carlos, but I've been friends with him since pre-Kindergarten, and I know that he never really does anything unless he really wants to. He wanted to be with you then, and he wants to be with you now. I'm just glad he's finally found someone," I said.

"Thanks, Logan," she said, giving me an appreciative smile. "So, who do you want to see next?"

"I'd actually like to talk to Kendall's mom next."

She gave me a hug before she left. It wasn't long before Mrs. Knight entered my room. She immediately surveyed me to see if I was in any discomfort or pain.

"Don't worry Mama Knight. I'm fine," I said.

"I'm so glad you're better, Logan. You had us all worried. I love you like my own son, you know that, right?" she asked me.

I didn't understand where this was coming from. Looking at her face, I saw that her eyes were brimming with tears. Why was she almost crying? Was it something I did?

"Of course I know that. Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?" I asked.

Kendall's mom chuckled. Great. First I almost made her cry. Now, she was laughing at me.

"Of course not sweetie. You came back to us. That's all any of us could have ever asked for," she replied.

I stifled a yawn. I couldn't fall asleep now. I still had six more people to talk to after this. Maybe it would be more efficient if I talked to more than one person at a time…

"Then what's wrong? You look sad," I stated.

Mrs. Knight took both of my hands in hers. She looked me in the eyes. There was both doubt and guilt on her face. I didn't get that at all. What did she have to be guilty about?

"Do you think I'm a terrible guardian?" she inquired.

My jaw dropped. I couldn't believe she just asked me that. "Of course not! You're like a second mother to me. Actually, you're more of a mother to me than my own mom is," I commented sadly.

I didn't really know how to feel about my parents. I mean they came out here to see me, so that does show that they care. It's just I almost died. It took me almost dying for them to come and see me. What about all those other times I was in the hospital? Where were they then? They can't make up for practically sixteen years of failed parenting by showing up at the hospital to see me for six weeks.

"I think your parents want to take you back to Minnesota with them. They don't think I'm a very good guardian. They said you got hurt on my watch," she told me.

"That's ridiculous! You're not to blame for what happened to me. I am! I'd be lying if I said a part of me didn't want to go with my parents so we could be a family finally," I said. Mrs. Knight frowned. "However, my life is here now. I have friends here. I have a girlfriend here. I have a career here. You, Katie, Kendall, James, and Carlos are my family, so I have family here too."

She hugged me. When she finished, she kissed me on the forehead. A few tears streamed down her face. She seemed touched by my words.

"Please don't scare us like that again. Please don't scare me like that again. If we've learned anything from all this, it's that without you, the others fall apart," Mama Knight commented.

"I'll be careful. I promise," I replied.

Mrs. Knight left the room, and I was surprised by who entered the room next. It was my parents. They came in to see me together. My mom walked over to me and wrapped her arms around me in an embrace. At first, I was too stunned to return the hug, but once I got over my initial shock, I did.

"I love you, Logan," my mom said.

"I love you too, Mom," I replied.

I did too. I loved both of my parents. I knew that they loved me too. They just had a…different…way of showing it. I felt grateful that my parents were still together. Kendall's parents had separated. They were still married, so Kendall's mom was still Mrs. Knight. She still had the last name, Knight. As did Katie and Kendall. Kendall and Katie never really saw their father, but they were okay with that. Their mother did a great job raising them on her own.

"How are you feeling, son?" my dad asked.

"I'm just grateful to be alive," I answered.

"Your mother and I were talking, and we'd like you to come back to Minnesota with us."

I shook my head 'no.' My mom pulled back from the hug. She looked at me with tears in her eyes.

"I can't do that. My life is here now. I have friends here. I have a girlfriend here. I have a job here. Kendall, James, and Carlos are like brothers to me. Ever since pre-Kindergarten, we have seen each other every day. I can't just leave them. Mrs. Knight is like a second mom to me. Katie is like a little sister to me. I can't leave," I said.

"You have a job here? Being a pop star was never your dream!" my dad retorted.

"How do you know? I bet you don't even know the first thing about me. You'd actually have to pay attention to me in order to know anything about me!"

I didn't know why I was yelling at my father. I guess all this pent up resentment towards my parents was starting to come to the surface.

"How dare you accuse me of being a bad father!" my dad yelled back.

"How dare you actually believe that you are a good father!" I countered.

Kendall came running into the room. He quickly scanned the room to survey the situation.

"Is everything okay? I heard yelling," Kendall stated.

"It's fine, Kendall. You can go now," my dad answered.

"I was actually talking to Logan," Kendall commented.

My dad left the room muttering angrily under his breath. My mom trailed quietly behind.

"Are you sure you're okay, Logie?" Kendall asked.

He held me as I wept. My tears soaked his t-shirt, but Kendall didn't seem to mind.

"He didn't…even…say…I love…you. I think…he does…but…it wouldn't…hurt for him…to say it…every now…and then," I commented through intermittent sobs.

"Shh," Kendall gently said to me.

When I felt myself shaking, I thought it was because of me, but then I noticed that Kendall was trembling like a leaf. I was glad that Kendall was allowing himself to be vulnerable around me. On the flip side, I was scared; usually Kendall was a rock. Usually, he was the strong one.

I pulled back from Kendall, and looked at him all doe eyed.

"Kendall, what's wrong?" I asked.

"I convinced James and Carlos to take you off life support. If you hadn't survived, I don't know how I could have lived with myself," Kendall answered.

I held Kendall for a change. I rested my chin on the top of his head.

"I did survive though, Kendall. You made the right decision. You always do," I said.

He raised his head to look up at me.

"You give me way too much credit," he commented.

"Well, you don't give yourself enough credit," I responded.

I don't know how long we sat like that. Neither one of us really wanted to move. I didn't want to be the first to move because I didn't want Kendall to get the idea that I was done comforting him. He probably didn't want to move because it was a nice change for him to be the one getting comforted rather than being the one doing the comforting.

"Logan, now that you're back, maybe you could help us with Carlos. He's up to something. I just know it. The other day he was wearing a bulletproof vest. His jacket had blood on it too. He said the blood was his but he just faked his death. Why would he do that? He faked his death for whom?" Kendall asked.

A chill traveled up and down my spine. My breath hitched in my throat. Carlos was wearing a bulletproof vest? He faked his own death? No! No, no, no! This couldn't be happening! Carlos couldn't possibly be getting involved in this mess! This is what I wanted to avoid! This is why I didn't tell any of them what I knew!

Kendall pulled back from me, he looked at me confused. Then a light bulb went off in his head.

"You know something about this, don't you? What is it? What is Carlos doing? What do you know?" Kendall demanded.

I shook my head, clearing my thoughts.

"I don't know what Carlos is doing," I replied honestly. "I don't know anything more than you."

"Logan, don't lie to me."

I didn't like lying to Kendall either. I didn't like lying to any of my friends. If my suspicions were correct, Carlos was in this as deep as I was, maybe even deeper. If he had somehow managed to keep James and Kendall in the dark, then I would do the same.

"Really Kendall, what you just said is news to me," I commented.

James knocked on the doorframe.

"Can I come in?" he asked.

Kendall left the room letting James have his turn talking to me. James pulled up a chair and sat down at the side of my bed.

"How are you doing?" James inquired.

If there was one thing I didn't like, it was people fussing over me. How many times have people asked me how I was doing? I know they mean well, and they weren't aware of how many times other people asked me, but I was getting a little sick of it. James must've picked up on my mood. He held his hands up innocently.

"Sorry," he said.

"My parents want me to go back with them to Minnesota when I get out of here," I stated, blatantly changing the subject.

There was a flicker of anger in James' eyes.

"I hope you told them what they could do with their offer," James remarked.

"James, don't worry. I'm not going back with them," I informed him.

The anger in his eyes had evaporated. In its place was pure joy. He smiled widely, his happiness evident all over his face.

"Kendall told me that he talked you and Carlos into taking me off life support," I said.

James shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He probably didn't think I noticed, but I did. His smile was gone now. I noticed that too.

"Yeah, but I was the tie breaker vote. If you hadn't…" he started to say.

"But I did. I'm alive, James. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere." I responded.

There was something off about James. I couldn't quite put my finger on it though. He was kind of behaving strangely. I didn't know what that was about? Was he just feeling guilty because he was the tie breaker vote and I could have died? Or was it something else? Maybe it wasn't even guilt at all…

"Is it my turn yet?" Carlos whined. He didn't even bother knocking. He just stood in the doorway.

"I'll see you later, buddy," James said to me.

Carlos took James' seat.

"So…notice what I'm wearing?" Carlos asked me, pointing up at his head.

"I see that," I replied.

Carlos frowned.

"You don't mind, do you?" he asked me.

"Of course not! From what I've heard you'll need protection," I stated.

Carlos stared down at the floor. He seemed preoccupied with counting the colored specks on the floor.

"You heard about that, huh?" he asked me, still refusing to meet my gaze.

"Carlos, I don't like the idea of you putting yourself in danger," I said, keeping my voice low so nobody else can hear me.

He looked up at me with hurt eyes.

"You think I like the idea of you putting yourself in danger?" he retorted, making sure to keep his voice barely above a whisper.

"Fair enough," I said.

The difference was that I didn't choose to be in this mess. I was targeted. Carlos made a decision to get involved in this mess. Why would he choose that?

"What all do you know?" I asked.

"I know that Camille's dad and Sid's dad used to be roommates in college. I know that Camille's dad left you that headless Care Bear. I know that he also was the one who left you that creepy phone call. I know that the last I heard, Sid was in Las Vegas. I know that his dad helped him go on the run after he stabbed you. I know that I faked my death so that Camille's dad would go on the run, and hopefully lead us to Sid. Which, my dad called me last night, and Sid and Mr. Sanders have both been arrested. We just have Sid's dad left to worry about," Carlos explained.

Some of the things didn't surprise me; like Camille's dad leaving me the Care Bear and calling me. Some things were news to me. I knew Sid, his dad, and Camille's dad were connected somehow. I just wasn't sure how until now.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! _We_ don't have anything to worry about. You're staying out of this," I said.

"I don't think so. I'm already involved, Logan! It's too late for me to back out now! My dad and I went to the juvenile hall and talked to Sid's dad asking to see security camera footage. Conveniently enough, the security cameras were down. Plus, both Sid's dad and Camille's dad know that I have been doing some investigating," Carlos replied.

Carlos really shouldn't have been doing any investigating at all. What if something were to happen to him? What if he was the next target? Why hasn't Sid's dad made a move yet? When would he make a move? What would that move be? There was a dark cloud looming over me and Carlos.

"I'll handle this, Carlos," I said.

"No! Either we do this together or we both drop it," Carlos responded.

A part of me was glad that I wouldn't have to do this alone anymore. A part of me was glad that someone else knew what was going on. The rest of me though couldn't in good conscience ask Carlos to be involved in something dangerous like this. I got stabbed. I nearly died. Next time, I might not be so lucky. Next time, it could be Carlos that got hurt. Next time, he could be the one who ends up dead.

I knew though that this wouldn't ever really be over until Sid's dad was arrested too. I didn't have the foggiest idea where to even begin getting him arrested. Would I have to lure him out? Would I have to provoke him? Or would he be the one to take the initiative?

"So, what do you say? Should we reform The Good Luck Patrol?" Carlos asked me.

I couldn't help but grin at Carlos. The Good Luck Patrol? Where did that even come from?

"Carlos, what does this have to do with luck? Good or bad?" I asked.

"Well Lucky Charm, nothing really, but that's not what The Good Luck Patrol is about. The Good Luck Patrol is about protecting people; only this time, we're protecting each other," Carlos answered.

Hearing Carlos call me by my code name made me snicker. He really was getting into this whole Good Luck Patrol thing. Carlos was just lucky I had a really hard time saying, 'No' to him. I let out a deep sigh.

"Fine, Rabbit's Foot. Let's do this. The Good Luck Patrol is back in business," I said.

We touched fingers, waggled them, and said, "Lucky" in high-pitched voices.

Camille walked in, looked at me, then Carlos, and then back at me.

"I don't even want to know what that was all about," she remarked.

"See ya later, Logie," Carlos said, before leaving.

Camille sat in the chair Carlos had been in. There were tears in her eyes. I reached my hand out and gently wiped them from her face. I didn't like seeing Camille cry.

"This is my fault. All of this. It can all be traced back to you getting arrested, and you wouldn't have got arrested if you hadn't been trying to see me. Then, you wouldn't have started getting seizures. Then, you wouldn't have got beaten up in juvie. You wouldn't even have been in juvie. Then, you certainly wouldn't have been stabbed at juvie. You wouldn't have been on life support. I wouldn't have almost lost you," Camille said.

I pulled her closer to me. She rested her head on my shoulder. I gently shushed her.

"It's not your fault, Camille. I don't blame you for any of this, and you shouldn't either. If anyone's to blame, it's me. I made some pretty reckless decisions, but you know what? If I had to go back and do it all over again, I wouldn't do anything differently," I said.

"I was so scared I was going to lose you. I was so scared that I had lost you. When we took you off life support, I thought it was the wrong thing to do. I thought you weren't strong enough to survive without it. I never should have doubted you," she commented.

I held her at arm's length. I had a hand on each of her shoulders.

"Camille, stop. It's okay. I'm okay," I said.

Camille flung her arms around me, and cried. I held her, returning her embrace. Some tears managed to escape from my eyes. I couldn't imagine life without everyone I cared about. However, I especially couldn't imagine life without Camille. I was her first boyfriend. She seems to be forgetting that she's my first romance too. She's what kept me fighting. She's my reason for living.

"Camille, thank you so much for sticking by me through all of this. Words can't even begin to describe how much gratitude I have towards you. I don't know what I did to deserve you, but I am so privileged to have found you. I think I know how I can show my thanks," I said.

There was something I have wanted to do for a while now. I didn't want to rush it though. It was my first time. I wanted it to be special. I wanted it to mean something. It's not something I do very often to girls. In fact, this would be my first time doing it at all. I pulled back from Camille's hug. She looked confused as to what I meant and what I was doing.

I leaned in, tilted my face slightly to the left, puckered my lips, and I kissed Camille for the first time.

To Be Continued…


	42. Sleepless Night

**A/N: So the stuffed dog that appears in this chapter was the same stuffed animal Logan was caught playing with in 7 Secrets with Big Time Rush. **

**Disclaimer: You guessed it; I still don't own Big Time Rush. You win. *gives virtual high-five***

**Big Time Disaster**

_Sleepless Night_

_Carlos' POV_

It was so good to finally have Logan back at The Palm Woods with us. I think the last time he stepped foot in Apartment 2J was over two months ago or something like that. That was a really long time ago. After eating dinner, he took some pain meds, and then went straight to bed. He was really tired.

Kendall, James, Mrs. Knight, Katie, and I would frequently check in on him to see how he was feeling or if he needed anything or just to see that he was still alive. Honestly, I was having a hard time believing that part. I believe in miracles and everything, and that's what this had been. For Logan to survive something like this, it had to be a miracle.

It was way too soon for the rest of us to go to bed. It was only a little after eight o'clock in the evening. I walked in the room that we four guys shared. It was great to see Logan's bed occupied again. I didn't know for sure, but I bet he missed sleeping in his own bed. He had been sleeping in a hospital bed for two months.

I walked closer so that I could get a better look at him. His eyes were closed. His chest rose and fell steadily. That was a good sign. It meant he was alive. I was the youngest of our group, but after everything that happened with Logan, even I watched Logan like a hawk now. Tears started to roll down my cheeks.

"Carlos, is everything okay?" I heard James ask me.

I turned around, and saw him standing in the doorway. He looked at me with concerned eyes. I brushed the tears from my cheeks with the back of my hand.

"Yeah, it's just…it's scary how close we came to losing Logan," I said.

If I was being honest with myself, that wasn't the only reason I was crying. I was also crying because Logan wasn't out of danger yet. That was my fault. I told him that both he and I try to put a stop to Sid's dad together, or we both drop it. I selfishly didn't want to drop it, and now Logan could still get hurt. I was willing to do whatever it took to protect him, but I just hoped it would be enough.

James walked over to me. He put his hand on my shoulder, and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"Yeah, but we didn't lose him, Carlos. He came back to us. It's all right. He's alive," James replied.

Without Logan, Kendall, James, and I had fallen apart at the seams. A part of me wondered if that would only happen if something bad happened to Logan, or if it would happen if something bad happened to me too. I shuddered to think that there was a very real possibility that they might soon find out. I wasn't out of danger myself either.

"The rest of us are watching a hockey game on TV in the living room. Do you want to watch it with us?" James asked.

"No, that's okay. I think I'll just stay here and be with Logan," I answered.

James gave my shoulder another gentle squeeze before he left the room. I looked over at Logan. I got an idea all of a sudden. I know I told Logan that we either try to bring Sid's father down together, or we drop it, but what if Logan didn't have to be in danger? What if I tried to bring Sid's father down all on my own? Logan wouldn't have to know.

XXXXX

I woke up in the middle of the night. I glanced at the alarm clock on my nightstand. In bright red numbers, it read '1:34 a.m.' I groaned. I don't know what caused me to wake up like this, but it was way too early to get up, and I was not a morning person at all.

"Stop! Don't! Please don't! No! You're hurting me! I can't breathe!" Logan cried out, trying to pry an unseen attacker's hands off his throat.

He was kicking his legs and thrashing about. His sheets and comforter had already been knocked down to the floor. His eyes were squeezed shut. When I realized he was having a nightmare, it pulled at my heartstrings.

I got out of my bed, and walked over to his. I gently placed my hand on his chest.

"Logan, it's me. It's Carlos. It's okay. You're having a nightmare. That's all," I said softly.

His eyes flew open, and he sat up so fast that if I hadn't moved at the last split second, we would have bumped heads. His forehead was all sweaty. His breathing was ragged.

"It was just a nightmare," he repeated to himself over and over again.

I sat on Logan's bed beside him. I gathered him in my arms, and held him. He buried his face in my chest and cried. He was having nightmares. Of course he would have nightmares. After all the traumatic experiences he's had to endure, how could he not? A few tears escaped my eyes as well. I didn't know what to do. I had never seen Logan so scared before.

"Sid strangled me in my sleep," Logan said so quietly that I almost didn't catch what he had said.

"Logan, it was just a nightmare. Sid's not here," I responded.

He shook his head left to right repeatedly.

"No, the night before I got stabbed, I think it was, Sid strangled me in my sleep," Logan explained.

I felt so bad for Logan. I barely remembered seeing some marks on his throat the morning of the stabbing. If I remember correctly, Logan pulled up the collar of his orange jump suit, hoping that we wouldn't notice.

"Oh Logan. Sid can't hurt you anymore. He's been arrested, remember?" I replied.

"Yeah, but Sid's dad is still on the loose. Surely he knows his son has been arrested by now. What if he wants revenge? It won't be long until he finds out that I'm still alive. What if he wants to finish the job?" Logan asked.

Truthfully, these are things I considered too. Logan wasn't the only one who was scared. I was scared too. The fact that Logan and I had agreed that we were in this together took some of that fear away, but a lot of it still remained. Then, if I decided to keep Logan out of this, I would be all by myself, and that would be that much more terrifying.

"He won't hurt you. I won't let him. I'll protect you, Logan," I stated, pulling Logan closer to me.

"No Carlos! I don't want you to get hurt!" Logan replied.

"Well, I don't want _you_ to get hurt, so too bad."

I looked over and saw that Kendall and James were sound asleep. I was actually relieved by that. Logan and I were keeping our voices down, but still we were talking about a lot of stuff that the others didn't know. I wasn't even sure why I woke up. I mean I guess because I heard Logan having a nightmare. I'm just glad that I was the one to wake up.

Logan pulled back from me. He looked at me with tears in his eyes.

"You and I, we _are_ in this together, right? You're not going to go off on your own and try to be the hero, are you? Carlos, promise me that you won't," Logan said.

I didn't want to say anything that might upset Logan further. However, I also didn't really want him involved in this anymore. He had been hurt more than enough already. I didn't want him to get hurt anymore.

"Don't worry, Logan. I promise," I replied.

I noticed Logan's posture relax; he wasn't so tense anymore. I felt awful. I had told him exactly what he wanted to hear. However, I very well could have been lying to him. Logan and I may be the youngest of our group, but we could be really stubborn when we wanted to be too. We each didn't want the other involved. However, individually, neither one of us could just drop it.

"You know, Stephanie is really worried about you. Kendall is convinced you're up to something," Logan told me.

I frowned. I hated keeping Stephanie in the dark about this, especially since we only just started going out. I didn't have much of a choice though. It was either that, or risk putting her in danger. Logan and I both agreed that the fewer people who knew about this, the better. Right now, Logan, my dad, and I were the only people who knew. Three people in danger were enough.

"Well, I won't say anything to her. I won't say anything to Kendall either. I hope you also stay quiet about this," I responded.

Logan held his hands up innocently.

"They won't hear anything from me," he said.

"I don't know how much Camille knows, if anything, but if she did know what we were up to, she would be really worried about you too," I commented.

Logan chuckled lightly.

"Even if I wasn't up to anything, Camille would still worry about me," he remarked.

I nodded my head up and down. This was very true. She wasn't the only one who was worried about Logan though. We all were. I know how annoying it is to be babied by people, but we almost lost Logan, so I think all of us were going to watch him like a hawk from now on. He would just have to get used to it.

"Just like you're protecting Stephanie by not telling her what we're up to, I'm protecting Camille by not telling her what we're up to," Logan said.

What were we up to exactly? What was our next move? Did Logan have a plan? Or was the plan to continue waiting for Sid's dad to slip up and make a mistake? I didn't really like the idea of doing nothing. I didn't really like the idea of waiting for Sid's dad to do something to us. Shouldn't we instead make the first move?

"What do we do now?" I asked.

Logan always had the answers. He always knew what to do. He always had the solutions. Just when he panicked, his panic was all he could think about. Even then, he still had the answers. He just didn't know it.

"Well, I think it's safe to say that I'm the primary target," he said. I flinched when he said that. "You're only the secondary target. Sid's dad wants to get rid of you because you know too much. He wants to get rid of me because it's personal."

I didn't much like the idea of Sid's dad wanting to get rid of either of us. It was just him trying to save his own hide though. He knew that Logan and I were onto him. He knew that we were so close to putting him away for good.

"Our best option would probably be to try and force his hand. We should go to juvenile hall and see him. If he hasn't already heard that I'm still alive, he'll be surprised to see that I'm not dead. Maybe when he sees the two of us working together to bring him down, he'll panic and make a mistake," Logan explained.

"There's only one problem though. You and I aren't really fighters," I said.

"He wouldn't try anything at juvenile hall. There are too many witnesses. No, he'd probably wait and try to get one or both of us alone."

My eyes stung with tears. I couldn't help but think that Sid's dad wouldn't try to get both of us alone; he'd try to get one of us alone—Logan. Logan said it himself; he's the primary target. I'm only the secondary target. If Sid's dad was going after only one of us, it would be Logan. He'd probably want to make sure Logan dies for real this time.

"No! There has to be some other way! I'm not going to just stand by and let you get hurt!" I exclaimed.

Logan wrapped his arms around me in a comforting hug as I cried.

"Our only other option is to do nothing. Just wait for him to make a move. The only problem with this is it puts him in the driver's seat. He can strike whenever he wants and whoever he wants. At least with the first option, we'll know he'll retaliate soon. We won't know who he'll target or when, but it will be one of us. If we do nothing, he could hurt someone we care about just to get at us. I don't know about you, but I'm not going to let that happen," Logan said.

I didn't particularly care for either option. To me, the first option practically guaranteed that Logan would be targeted. If Sid's dad didn't know Logan was alive, us visiting him would alert him to that fact. With the second option though, there were no guarantees. Anyone could get hurt. Me, Logan, Kendall, James, Stephanie, Camille, Jo, Mrs. Knight, Katie, anyone. Basically, the first option would draw Sid's dad's fire.

I trembled as I continued to cry. "Logan, aren't you scared? I'm terrified," I admitted.

I looked up at Logan and saw tears streaming down his face as well. "Of course I'm scared, Carlos. I want to protect Camille. You want to protect Stephanie, right? Then the first option is our best option. At least that way, we'll know that it'll be one or both of us targeted. As far as I'm concerned, the second option isn't even an option. I'm not going to risk something bad happening to Camille; not if I can help it," Logan replied.

I was so frustrated. I wanted to shake Logan. Why couldn't he see it? Why couldn't he see that by going with the first option, he was basically signing his own death certificate? Sid's dad wouldn't target me. He wouldn't even target both of us. He would target Logan, and Logan alone. He wouldn't stop until he was dead either.

"Don't you get it, Logan? By going with the first option, you are pretty much guaranteeing that Sid's dad will come after you! Do you _want_ to get hurt again? Or worse; do you _want_ to die?" I remarked, starting to raise my voice.

I pulled away from Logan. I got up off his bed, and started to head over to mine when I heard Logan's reply.

"Of course not, Carlos. I don't _want_ to get hurt. I don't _want _to die. _If_ I do though, I rather it happen to me than to Camille, you, or anyone else I care about," he said.

I spun around on my heels, narrowing my eyes at him.

"For once in your life, will you stop being so selfless?" I remarked, now I was practically yelling at him.

"I'm not being selfless," Logan responded.

"Then why does it sound like you're sacrificing yourself?"

Logan wouldn't even look at me. Instead, he stared at the comforter on his bed. Absentmindedly, he picked at a loose string on it. I could hear him sniffling. Even though I couldn't see all of his face, I could see the downtrodden look on the parts of his face I could see. I was glad that Kendall and James were heavy sleepers. I was actually kind of surprised that I didn't wake them up when I started raising my voice at Logan.

"Can we not talk about this anymore?" Logan asked meekly.

I reached my hand out. "Logan, I'm sorry," I said.

He lay back down, but shifted the way he was laying. Now he was lying on his side with his back to me. I frowned when I realized that he was mad at me. I didn't really blame him either. I shouldn't have raised my voice at him.

"It's okay, Carlos. Just go back to bed," he said, even though he didn't look at me as he said it.

I reluctantly went back to my own bed, and got in it, pulling the sheets and comforter over me. I closed my eyes, but I couldn't fall asleep, not with Logan mad at me. Images of his dejected face flashed through my mind. I could hear his meek voice. The sound of him sniffling replayed itself over and over in my head. I opened my eyes, and glanced over at Logan before closing my eyes.

XXXXX

Sometime later, I opened my eyes, and he was still sniffling. It wasn't just me replaying that in my head. His back was still to me as he lay in his bed. His body shook with sobs. I knew that he wasn't sleeping. I got up out of my bed, and walked over to his.

"Can't sleep?" I asked him, taking great care to keep my voice soft this time around.

He rolled over on his other side so that he was now facing me. I noticed there were myriad tear tracks all over his face. His eyes were red and puffy. I could see dark circles start to form underneath his eyes. I don't think he's really gotten any sleep tonight.

"I'm afraid to. Sid strangled me in my sleep," he replied in a voice barely above a whisper.

"Logan, Sid's not here. He can't hurt you anymore. He's behind bars," I said.

I wanted to put my hand on his shoulder to reassure him or hug him or something, but I was afraid it was too soon for that; I was afraid he was still mad at me, so I didn't want to chance it.

"What if I have another nightmare?" he asked.

I just got a brilliant idea.

"Hey Logan, do you have a flashlight?" I inquired.

"Yeah, in my nightstand drawer," he answered.

Of course he had a flashlight in his nightstand drawer. Logan was always prepared like that. I wouldn't be surprised if there was a first-aid kit in there too. There were probably extra batteries in there too in case the ones in the flashlight went dead. I opened up his nightstand drawer, and grabbed the flashlight that sure enough was in there.

I grabbed the chair from his desk, and carried it with me as I made my way over to our closet. I opened the closet doors, and turned the flashlight on. I climbed up on the chair, so I could get a box down from the top shelf of the closet. I held it in my arms as I climbed down from the chair. I set the box on the floor, and opened it up. After searching through its contents, I found what I was looking for. I pulled it out before walking over to Logan and turning off the flashlight.

"Here, whenever I can't sleep at night, I always sleep with this, and it would help me fall asleep," I said, holding it out in front of me. Then I decided to revise my statement some. I cleared my throat. "You know, when I was a little kid and all."

It was a small stuffed dog. It was all white, with blue floppy ears, and a blue spot over its left eye. Logan was more of a cat person, but it worked for me. Besides, I didn't have any stuffed cats.

Logan laughed. "Uh-huh. Sure…" he commented.

I rubbed the back of my neck nervously and blushed. I was glad it was pretty dark in the room; that way hopefully Logan couldn't see how embarrassed I was.

"Thanks, Carlos!" Logan said, taking the stuffed animal from me.

"So, are we cool?" I asked, holding my hand up in the air for him to shake.

He shook hands with me. "Yeah, we're cool. It's kind of hard to stay mad at you when you're being so sweet," Logan replied.

To Be Continued…

**A/N: Haha, everyone but Carlos and Logan were practically non-existent in this chapter. How did that happen? Lol.**


	43. The Cat's Out of the Bag

**A/N: Okay, so you know those two future projects of mine that you all are voting on? Well, just to whet your appetite, I'll now reveal to you the titles of the two stories. The Logan/Camille Angst/Romance one is titled Til I Forget About You. The Carlos/Logan Horror/Humor one is titled My Best Friend Is a Vampire. Maybe that'll change the poll results. Maybe not. Last I checked, the Logan/Camille one was winning 18 votes to 9. Remember, only votes on the actual poll on my profile page will be counted. You have until I upload Chapter 50 of Big Time Disaster before I close the poll. **

**Disclaimer: I've been playing the Monopoly game at McDonald's, and I just got Boardwalk and Park Place. Now that I'm a millionaire, I can partially own Big Time Rush. *snickers* Yeah, I can't even say that with a straight face…**

**Big Time Disaster**

_The Cat's Out of the Bag_

_3__rd__ Person Omniscient POV_

Logan walked through The Palm Woods with his gaze never leaving the floor except to occasionally ensure that he wouldn't run into anything or anybody. In those fleeting moments, Logan was all too aware of the stares that he received. Everyone felt sorry for him. Everyone felt bad for him. They treated him differently. Logan didn't want anyone to treat him differently. He just wanted things to go back to the way they were before this whole mess started.

He didn't know how he did it, but somehow Logan managed to slip out of Apartment 2J without being seen. Kendall, James, Carlos, Mrs. Knight, and even Katie kept a vigilant watch on Logan. Frankly, Logan was surprised no one followed him into the bathroom when he went in there. Their constant surveillance would actually be touching if it wasn't so creepy.

Logan was feeling better. The pain meds certainly helped even though Logan was trying to wean himself off those. He knew how easily people could grow addicted to pain meds, and he didn't want to be just another statistic. Plus, they also had a tendency to make him drowsy, and he was tired of being so sleepy all the time. It was illogical that he would even be sleepy in the first place. Sleeping is practically the only thing he did for seven whole weeks. That should be enough sleep to get him by until the holiday season was in full swing.

Logan wasn't really even in pain anymore. There was only a dull pain in his chest, but nothing that was any cause for concern.

Logan was on his way to see Camille, when two of the three Jennifers came up to him. He noticed the blonde Jennifer was missing. Logan wasn't quite sure what to make of that.

"Hey Logan, it's good to have you back," Jennifer 1 commented.

Logan turned around and looked behind him and around him to see if anyone was around that the Jennifers could possibly be talking to. Surely they weren't talking to him. They never talked to him. Why would they start now?

"Are you talking to me?" Logan asked, surprised.

"Well, yeah. Do you see anyone else here named Logan?" Jennifer 3 replied.

Logan was at a loss about how to respond to this. The Jennifers talking to you wasn't something that most Palm Woods residents experienced on a daily basis…if ever at all.

"It's just you never talk to me. In fact, you usually give me a 'talk to the hand' gesture. So, what's with the change of heart?" Logan inquired.

"Why do you sound so surprised? We actually can be nice, you know," Jennifer 1 stated.

Logan didn't believe for one second that the Jennifers could actually be nice. They were self-serving girls who had an air of superiority about them. He didn't trust them for one second. He went to walk past them, but they wouldn't let him pass.

"Where are you going?" Jennifer 3 asked.

"Not that it's any of your business, but I'm going to go see Camille," Logan answered.

"You two are still together even after…well, you know," Jennifer 1 remarked.

Logan stopped in his tracks and knitted his eyebrows in confusion. Was there something about Camille he should know about? If so, how did the Jennifers know?

"Even after what?" Logan asked.

The two Jennifers exchanged glances with one another. Then, Jennifer 3 put a hand on Logan's shoulder. He flinched from the contact.

"I'd hate to be the one to tell you this," Jennifer 1 started to say.

Somehow Logan doubted that the brunette Jennifer hated to tell him whatever she was about to tell him. His guess was that whatever she was about to tell him, she was dying to say.

"But Camille made a bet with us Jennifers," Jennifer 1 explained.

Logan consciously knew that he shouldn't buy anything the Jennifers were saying to him, but it still didn't stop him from wanting them to continue.

"A bet? What was the bet?" Logan inquired.

"Camille bet one thousand dollars that you would kiss her before you kissed one of us. Each of us Jennifers bet one thousand dollars that you would kiss one of us before you kiss Camille," Jennifer 1 answered.

Logan's shoulders and heart sank. He couldn't believe that Camille would make a bet like that. It was so insulting. He's only ever initiated a kiss with one girl once in his life—Camille. It's not like he's some sort of man-whore that goes around kissing all the girls he can. Yet somehow, that's pretty much exactly what the bet made him out to be.

He closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose, and took deep cleansing breaths.

"I don't believe you," Logan said with his eyes still closed.

"If you don't believe us, then go ask Camille," Jennifer 3 said.

Logan opened his eyes. Now he really wanted to go see Camille. Surely the Jennifers were lying. What would possess Camille to make a bet like that? She wouldn't do that to him. Logan was convinced that when he went to Camille and confronted her about this, she would say that the Jennifers were just making it up. Logan would believe her too. He would much rather believe Camille than the Jennifers any day of the week.

The two Jennifers paved a path for Logan to walk between them. Now they had no problem with him going to see Camille. Logan headed off in the direction of Camille's apartment.

When Logan was out of earshot, the two Jennifers fist bumped.

"They are so toast," Jennifer 3 commented.

XXXXX

Camille heard someone knocking on the front door to her apartment.

"I'm coming," she called out.

She unlocked the door before pulling it open. She was ecstatic to see who was awaiting her on the other side of the door.

"Logan!" she gushed, throwing her arms around him in a joyful hug.

However, when he didn't return the hug, she started to become concerned. A frown crossed her face. She ceased her embrace and stood in front of him.

"May I come in?" Logan asked.

It was hard for Camille to figure out what was troubling Logan. His facial features gave nothing away. Even his tone of voice was formal and polite. If it wasn't for him not returning her hug, she wouldn't even be under the impression that something was wrong.

"Yeah, of course," Camille replied, allowing Logan to come in, before shutting the door behind him.

Logan walked six steps, before stopping, and turning around to face Camille.

"Is there anything you want to tell me about?" Logan asked.

Camille honestly didn't have a clue what Logan was talking about. She picked up on a hint of irritation in his voice when he asked the last question. Maybe Camille was just imagining things.

"What are you talking about?" Camille replied.

"Secrets, Camille. Are you keeping any secrets from me?" Logan asked.

Camille started mentally freaking out. Her eyes started to brim with tears. She had wanted to avoid this subject so that it was like it never happened. How could Logan have found out about that though? The only two people who knew were her and James. Surely, James didn't tell Logan, did he?

"Okay! James and I almost kissed, but we didn't actually kiss!" Camille blurted out.

Camille's heart broke when she saw the hurt and betrayal in Logan's eyes. His jaw had dropped, and tears leaked out from the corners of his eyes. He was obviously surprised by this. So what other secret had he been talking about?

Camille closed the distance between her and Logan. She grabbed hold of his arm.

"Logan, I'm sorry," she said sincerely, tears streaming down her face.

"Don't touch me!" Logan exclaimed, shaking himself free from Camille's grip.

Logan felt so betrayed. One of his best friends and his girlfriend almost kissed. Who's to say that the next time, they won't just _almost_ kiss? What, did that mean the two of them had feelings for each other? When did this happen? How did this happen? Logan couldn't help but feel like this was just like back in Minnesota—James always gets the girl.

Logan was so confused. Camille had told him that she loves him. He had almost told her that he loves her. Does he still love her? Is it even possible for him to love her anymore? Or has that ship already sailed?

Logan was so incredibly hurt. This hurt far worse than any of the beatings he had received at juvie. This hurt far worse than when Sid stabbed him. In fact, Logan rather Sid stab him ten times over than deal with the pain that this caused him. This was too much.

"Who stopped the kiss?" Logan demanded.

"What?" Camille replied.

"You said you and James almost kissed. Who stopped the kiss?"

Camille couldn't even bring herself to look Logan in the eyes anymore. That was all the answer Logan needed though. Tears cascaded down his face.

"You didn't even stop the kiss. James did. If he hadn't…" Logan couldn't even finish that sentence.

Camille wanted to do anything to take Logan's pain away. He was shaking from head to toe. Camille wasn't sure if it was out of anger, sadness, or a mixture of both. Logan hated confrontations, but this one was kind of forced on him.

Logan walked past Camille. She thought he was going to leave, but he stopped just before reaching the door. He turned around slowly so that he was looking straight at her. His eyes glistened with tears.

"You and I are done, Camille. It's not all bad for you though. You managed to make three thousand dollars out of it. I mean you _did_ win the bet you made with the Jennifers," Logan commented.

Camille felt like such an idiot. That's the secret Logan had been talking about. If only she'd have known. Now, Logan knows about her and James almost kissing, which was by far worse. She couldn't believe this was happening. After everything she and Logan had been through, this couldn't be the end. She sank to her knees, tears coming out of her eyes in torrents.

"When I kissed you for the first time, it was the most amazing thing I had ever experienced. It was the first time I had ever initiated a kiss with a girl too because stupid me, I actually was under the impression that you were _the_ one. It looks like the joke is on me," Logan remarked.

Camille reached her hand out to Logan.

"Logan…" she sobbed.

"Don't Camille! Just don't!" Logan yelled.

He turned so that his back was to Camille, opened the door, and walked out on her, slamming the door shut behind him.

XXXXX

Carlos had been combing The Palm Woods looking for Logan after he had gone missing. It wasn't just Carlos looking for him either. Kendall, James, Katie, Mrs. Knight, Jo, and Stephanie were looking for Logan too. So far, their search had come up empty.

"Logan, where are you?" Carlos asked out loud.

Why would Logan go off on his own like this? What was he thinking? Where was he going? Carlos had a really bad feeling that Logan was off doing something reckless. What if he had decided to confront Sid's dad on his own? He wouldn't do that, would he? Logan had told Carlos that they would take care of it together.

Then, by some miracle, Carlos spotted Logan heading towards the parking lot. From what Carlos could tell, Logan looked really upset. Why was Logan upset? What had upset him?

"Logan!" Carlos called out.

If Logan heard Carlos, he didn't acknowledge it; he just kept on walking. Carlos saw a taxi cab pull up. Carlos really started to panic then. Running faster than he knew his legs could carry him, Carlos not only caught up to him, but got in between Logan and the taxi cab.

"Logan, what's wrong?" Carlos asked.

"I'm ending this once and for all," Logan replied, his voice shaky.

Carlos saw that Logan was crying…a lot. He didn't know what Logan had meant by 'this.' He wasn't really sure if he even wanted to know.

"What are you talking about? You're not going to see Sid's dad, are you? I thought you said you and I would take care of that together?" Carlos remarked.

"I don't see what the big deal is. Sid's dad wants revenge. You and your dad want Sid's dad to be brought to justice. Everyone's getting what they want," Logan said.

"He could kill you!"

"Maybe that's what _I_ want!"

Carlos gasped. In all the time he's known Logan, not once has Logan ever mentioned suicide. He wasn't suicidal. At least that's what Carlos used to think. He didn't know what happened that made Logan so upset, but whatever it was, it was bad—_really_ bad.

Carlos was at a loss. He didn't know what to do or say. He's never dealt with something like this before. Tears started to roll down his cheeks. All he could think about was that his best friend just told him that he wants to die.

Somehow, Carlos managed to form words. "You don't mean that, Logan! Think about all the people who care about you. Kendall, me, James…"

"James doesn't care about me!" Logan retorted.

Carlos was confused. He wasn't aware Logan was fighting with anyone. When did this happen? What did James do?

"How could you say that? Of course James cares about you! He's one of your best friends!" Carlos exclaimed.

"Right. That's why James and Camille almost kissed. Some best friend," Logan remarked bitterly.

Carlos couldn't believe his ears. Did Logan really just say what Carlos thought Logan said?

"Out of my way, Carlos," Logan said.

"No! I'm not going to let you get yourself killed!" Carlos replied.

The sound of approaching footsteps could be heard. Someone was running towards Logan and Carlos. It was none other than Camille.

"Logan, wait! Don't go!" Camille called out.

Logan took off running. Carlos may be blocking _one_ entrance into the taxi, but there were other entrances. Logan swung around wide in an attempt to run around the car. Carlos mirrored Logan's movements. However, he didn't count on Logan stopping on a dime, reversing direction, and faking him out. Now that he had lured Carlos away from the entrance he had been blocking, Logan had a clear shot. When Carlos realized what Logan was doing, it was too late. Logan had always been faster than him. Logan made it inside the taxi cab, quickly shutting and locking the door behind him.

"Take me to the juvenile detention center," Logan said to the taxi driver, before the taxi pulled away.

To Be Continued…


	44. Taken

**A/N: After this chapter, only six more chapters left. Aw, that makes me sad. This is like my baby. You know, if guys could have babies and all…**

**Disclaimer: I'm too tired to think of anything witty here…I don't own anything though.**

**Big Time Disaster**

_Taken_

_Carlos' POV_

"What was Logan thinking? Where is he going?" Camille asked out loud.

I knew where Logan was going. I was probably the only one who knew where he was going. I couldn't tell anyone though without opening up a can of worms. If I told anyone where Logan was headed, they would ask me how I knew that. I would have to tell them about all the investigating my dad and I did. I would have to break my promise to Logan that this stays between us.

I was still reeling from what Logan had said to me about James and Camille almost kissing. I wasn't sure how I felt about either one of them right now. I usually wasn't one to point fingers, but if anything bad happens to Logan, I would blame James and Camille. I don't know how Logan found out about their almost kiss. I didn't even know about it until Logan told me. Now Logan was upset by it. Now Logan wasn't thinking clearly.

"I don't know. Come on, let's go find the others and tell them what happened," I said.

It was so hard for me to be civil to Camille. She had broken Logan's heart. Well, her and James both. It didn't even make sense to me. Why would they almost kiss? I thought Camille liked Logan. I thought James didn't like Camille. How could either of them do that to Logan? Hadn't he been through enough already?

We soon all met up in the lobby. Kendall, James, Jo, Mrs. Knight, and Katie were there. I noticed someone wasn't there though—Stephanie. I couldn't help but worry about her. What if something bad had happened to her? Where was she? Was she hurt? Was she scared? Could this day get any worse?

"Logan got into a taxi and left," Camille stated.

"What? Why would he do that? Where is he going?" Kendall replied.

I was so preoccupied by Stephanie that I hardly noticed that everyone was looking at me. They had asked me something, and were awaiting my answer. I couldn't answer them though when I didn't even catch the question.

"Carlos, do you have any idea where Logan could have gone?" Mrs. Knight asked me.

I hated lying in general, but I especially hated lying to Kendall's mom. I didn't have much of a choice though. There was no way I could tell them that Logan was going to the juvenile hall without explaining why. In order to explain why, I'd have to tell them about what my father and I had been up to. I wasn't about to do that.

"No," I lied. "Where's Stephanie?"

They all looked at one another, but no one seemed to know anything about Stephanie's whereabouts. I tried not to panic. I tried not to worry. However, I was quickly losing that battle. It killed me that I couldn't help Logan without raising suspicion. However, I could help Stephanie though. I just hoped this was all some sort of misunderstanding, and she wasn't in any sort of danger at all.

XXXXX

_Logan's POV_

The taxi cab pulled up to the juvenile detention center. I got out, and walked in through the front entrance. I saw a prison guard, and went up to him.

"Hi, could you take me to see the warden?" I asked.

I had one way or another regained my composure enough during the ride to juvenile hall. Hopefully, no one could tell that I was sad or upset. There was recognition in the prison guard's eyes as he looked at me.

"Yeah, of course. Follow me," the prison guard answered.

He led me through the juvenile hall. I remembered Sid telling me that the prison guards protected him here. I didn't know how much I could really trust this prison guard, if at all. For all I knew, he could be leading me into a trap—an ambush. As strange as it sounds, that didn't bother me one bit. My heart was racing. Adrenaline was flowing.

After I had been stabbed, the juvenile detention center released me into the custody of the hospital for obvious reasons. Mr. Sanders had been the one to press charges. He had been the one to get me arrested. He didn't do himself any favors when he fled town, and then wound up getting arrested himself. His actions and his restraining order were placed under heavy scrutiny.

Then there was the fact that this juvenile hall was the place where I had been stabbed. While I was on life support, my lawyer, Mr. Smith, had been a busy man. He had convinced the judge and jury that juvie was not a safe place for me to be. He then convinced the judge and jury that Mr. Sanders could not be taken seriously. He fled town. He was arrested. Both were signs of someone who was guilty. Both were signs of someone with something to hide. Mr. Smith reminded them that I had no priors; I was no criminal—I was no threat to society. Basically, he provided the judge and jury with reasonable doubt.

When I was released from the hospital, I was actually surprised that I didn't return to the juvenile detention center. No one had really liked Mr. Smith, but he came through for me when it really counted. He had left me a voicemail on my cell phone explaining to me what had happened and why I was a free man. At the time, I had been incredibly grateful to Mr. Smith. I just wished I could have thanked him in person.

The prison guard led me to the warden's quarters. The only problem was nobody was there. I was so disappointed. My adrenaline overpowered my fear so that I wasn't scared about what I wanted to do. It wouldn't last forever though. Once I calmed down, I probably wouldn't even want to go on this suicide mission.

If the warden wasn't here, then why would the prison guard lead me all the way into the heart of the juvenile hall? I just got a horrible thought. He was distracting me. Sid's dad was up to something, and he didn't want me involved in whatever he was doing. The prison guard was probably told to keep me here as long as possible. Then, it hit me; Sid's dad was at The Palm Woods.

Something caught my eye. On a table there was a blueprint of The Palm Woods. I was horrified when I saw that certain apartments were labeled. Jo's apartment was labeled. Stephanie's apartment was labeled. Our apartment was labeled. Sid's dad obviously hadn't been sitting around doing nothing. He's been doing his research.

I grabbed the sides of the table to keep me from keeling over. How would Sid's dad know what apartment Jo lives in? How would he know what apartment Stephanie lives in? How would he know what apartment I live in? Had he been to The Palm Woods? Was he there and just no one recognized him? What if there was a mole? What if he knew some resident of The Palm Woods and that person was providing Sid's dad with all this information? What else did Sid's dad know about us?

My adrenaline was starting to wear off, and I was starting to shake in fear. Now though I was scared for my friends. I was scared for Jo, Stephanie, Kendall, Carlos, Katie, Mrs. Knight, and even Camille and James. I chose the first option—try to force Sid's dad's hand. However, now, I had no choice but to go with the second option—wait for Sid's dad to make a move. Sid's dad was already making his move. I felt so guilty. I should have tried to force Sid's dad's hand sooner. I waited too long. Now there was no telling who would be targeted. There was no telling that Sid's dad would even stop with targeting just one person. I had to get back to The Palm Woods now.

XXXXX

_Carlos' POV_

I don't know why, but something told me to check Stephanie's apartment. When I saw that the front door to her apartment was ajar, I knew that something was wrong. My pulse had accelerated. My heart was beating so fast I thought it would beat right out of my chest. I cautiously made my way into Stephanie's apartment.

Even though it didn't look like anyone had been in her apartment, something still seemed off. Something wasn't quite right. There weren't any signs of breaking and entering other than the door being ajar. Nothing was overturned or seemed out of place. It was really quiet though. Someone had obviously been in Stephanie's apartment. There was no telling if they still were or not. There was no telling if Stephanie had been in her apartment when they were. I seriously hoped she wasn't. I couldn't bear the thought of something bad happening to Stephanie.

"Hello?" I called out.

I didn't get an answer. I just couldn't bring myself to be relieved by that though. For all I know, whoever broke into Stephanie's apartment was still here, waiting. He or she could have just chosen not to answer me. If Stephanie was in her apartment, the fact that she didn't answer me when I called out sent me into panic mode.

My hands were shaking really bad, and I couldn't get them to stop. I tiptoed my way through her apartment. I wasn't sure why though. If someone was waiting for me here, they already were alerted to my presence when I shouted, "Hello?"

The living room was clear. The kitchen was clear. The bathroom was clear. The master bedroom was clear. There was only one room I hadn't checked yet—Stephanie's room. I heard a noise come from her room. It sounded like something had hit the wall. I went to investigate.

Her bedroom seemed to be empty, but I know I heard a noise come from here. Then, I heard a noise again. Once more, it sounded like something hit the wall. I noticed that it seemed to come from the closet. I walked over to the closet, and carefully opened the doors.

Stephanie was in there. She had a piece of duct tape placed over her mouth. Her hands were bound together in front of her with duct tape. Her ankles were bound together with duct tape. I suddenly felt sick to my stomach. Sid's dad had got to Stephanie. I frantically scanned her for any signs of injuries. Thankfully, I didn't seem to find any. Tears were streaming down her face and she was clearly shaken.

"It's okay, Stephanie. I'm here. I'm going to get you out of these restraints real soon, okay?" I said to her as I worked on freeing her wrists.

As I worked on freeing Stephanie, I couldn't help but wonder what game Sid's dad was playing. Why would he tie Stephanie up in the closet and leave her? Why didn't he hurt her? Or worse, why didn't he kill her? Why would he even go after her in the first place? Then I had an awful thought. What if Sid's dad somehow found out that Stephanie and I were going out? So what was this then? Was Sid's dad trying to get to me through Stephanie?

I saw Stephanie's eyes get wide in terror. I heard her muffled scream. The next thing I knew, a cloth was placed over my mouth. I smelled a sickly sweet scent. I tried desperately to pry my attacker's hand off my mouth, but my attacker was too strong. I squirmed, but the attacker used his other arm to hold me to him. Not only was he strong, but I could tell that he was much bigger than me too. I used my fingernails to dig into the flesh of my attacker's hand. It may not be a very manly move, but desperate times call for desperate measures. The cloth was still clamped over my mouth though, and I felt myself start to lose consciousness.

XXXXX

_Kendall's POV_

The rest of us decided to split up to go look for Carlos and Stephanie. We had split up into three groups. Jo and Camille made up one group. Katie and my mom made up a second group. James and I made up the third group.

"You and I need to talk," I said.

"Now's not the time, Kendall. Stephanie's missing. Nobody knows where Carlos ran off to," James replied.

James and I watched hockey together last night. We didn't really say anything to each other though. Both of us were too absorbed in the game even though we were sitting on the same couch. I knew he still blamed me for Logan getting stabbed. Even though Logan was okay now, he still blamed me. Then, of course, when I was lashing out at everyone, I punched him in the face.

"Why not now? We're alone. I just want to go back to being friends with you again," I commented.

"Kendall, look!" James exclaimed.

"What James? What? You're not going to forgive me? You're never going to forgive me? It's my fault Logan got hurt? Why doesn't that surprise me?"

James shook his head left to right, and then pointed his finger.

"No, look!" he replied.

I looked to see what he was pointing at. I saw some huge guy walking down the hallway with an arm wrapped around Carlos' waist. Carlos was unconscious. The stranger was probably close to seven feet tall. He probably weighed around three hundred pounds. He had a bald head and a black goatee. He had lots of tattoos. I clenched my hands into fists. I gritted my teeth together. My blood boiled.

"Let him go!" I yelled.

I stepped forward and took a protective stance with James behind me. I didn't care if he was mad at me. Something had happened to Carlos. I wasn't about to let something happen to James too. I was sick of bad things happening to my friends.

The stranger laughed obnoxiously. He reached into a pocket of his jacket, and pulled out a gun. I was horrified when he put the gun to Carlos' head.

"I don't think so. In fact, here's what's going to happen; the two of you are going to let me through, and you won't call the cops. If you don't let me through, and if I find out you called the cops on me, I'll blow your friend's brains out," the stranger warned.

I unclenched my fists and let out a frustrated sigh. I hated sitting back and doing nothing while this stranger kidnapped Carlos. I didn't have much of a choice though. If I didn't let the stranger pass, he would kill Carlos. I didn't want anything bad to happen to Carlos. What did this stranger have against Carlos? Why did bad stuff keep happening to my friends? First Logan, now Carlos too?

James and I reluctantly let the stranger pass with Carlos in tow.

"Good boys," the stranger said to us condescendingly.

To Be Continued…


	45. Bait

**A/N: There's not a new episode of BTR this week. This makes me sad. I'll probably be finished with this story before there is one. This makes me even sadder. Oh, and for all you Carlos fans, as far as this chapter is concerned, viewer discretion is advised. **

**Disclaimer: Yeah, I don't own anything…still. I don't foresee that changing anytime soon either, so uh…don't hold your breath.**

**Big Time Disaster**

_Bait_

_Carlos' POV_

I woke up and was alarmed when I didn't recognize any of my surroundings. What frightened me even more was that I couldn't move. I was in a spread eagle position between two posts. Each of my wrists was bound to a post. Each of my ankles was bound to a post. Only instead of using rope to restrain me, my captor used duct tape.

The last thing I remembered was finding Stephanie tied up in her bedroom closet. She had her ankles and wrists bound by duct tape. She had a piece of duct tape over her mouth. I was trying to free her when someone put a cloth over my mouth. I tried to break free, but eventually lost consciousness.

I was in what looked like an attic. I was a messy person, so I'm one to talk, but this place looked like it hadn't been cleaned in years. There were cobwebs all over the place. Some of the cobwebs had flies ensnared in the webs. The attic was really dusty. Rats scampered across the floor. There was a musty smell to the place.

Then I saw him—Sid's dad.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. I got goose bumps on my arms. My breath hitched in my throat. My eyes widened in fear, and my body was gripped by paralyzing fear. Of course! He was the one who had kidnapped me. Why though? What did he want with me? If he wanted me dead, why hadn't he killed me yet?

"Before you ask, you're in a foreclosed home in the middle of nowhere. No one will find you here because no one will even think to look here. Nobody has even step foot in this place in years. Relax. I'm not going to hurt you. You're just the bait. As long as you do what I say when I say it, no harm will come to you. Disobey me, and there will be consequences!" Sid's dad warned.

I swallowed a lump that was beginning to form in my throat. Even though he told me I could relax, I was far from relaxed. What did he want me to do? What consequences awaited me if I refused? Or did I even want to know? If I was the bait, then who…Logan. It had to be.

"What do you want from me?" I tried to ask with a conviction that I just didn't have.

He pulled a disposable cell phone out from a pocket in his jacket. He stalked his way over to me, stopping just inches away from me. He got down on his knees so that he was more at my height. I could feel his breath on my face.

"It's simple really. Call Logan and bring him to me," Sid's dad answered.

XXXXX

_Logan's POV_

I arrived back at The Palm Woods. I just hoped I wasn't too late. I couldn't help but think of the worst-case scenario. What would await me? A trail of bodies belonging to the people I cared about? I couldn't stand the thought of anyone getting hurt because of me. Sid's dad has a problem with me. That's fine. I just wished he'd leave the people I care about out of this.

I made it as far as the lobby when I saw Kendall and James. Something had gone down. They both looked spooked. All the color seemed to be drained from their faces. Upon seeing me, James ran up to me, and threw his arms around me in a hug.

"Thank God! Where have you been? We were so worried!" he commented.

I could feel my t-shirt start to get damp from his tears. Wait a second. Was I the reason they looked so spooked? That couldn't be it, could it? It made no sense. Worried? Yes. Spooked? Unlikely. Was I missing something?

"What's wrong? Is everyone okay?" I asked.

I noticed James tighten his embrace on me after I had asked if everyone was okay. I wondered what that was about. I had a hunch that Sid's dad was here, or at least had been here recently. Had he hurt someone? If so, who?

"Logie, there's no easy way to tell you this. You might want to sit down," Kendall suggested.

I remained standing.

"Kendall, whatever it is, just tell me already!" I said impatiently.

"Carlos has been kidnapped," Kendall said.

No! Not Carlos! It should have been me. I was the target. If only I had got back sooner. Better yet, if only I never left in the first place. I should never have gone to juvenile hall. Now that I had, Carlos was missing. Even though I didn't ask Kendall and James for a description of Carlos' kidnapper yet, I knew who it was—Sid's dad.

"The kidnapper had a gun too!" James added.

Now this was starting to become my worst fear come true. Sid's dad on his own was already bad news enough. Put a gun in his hands, and he's that much scarier and that much more dangerous. I couldn't stop images of Carlos lying alone somewhere bleeding to death from playing in my mind.

"Stephanie's missing too," Kendall stated.

"No she's not. We found her," Jo announced.

Jo, Camille, and a very scared and distraught looking Stephanie walked into the lobby. It was obvious she had been crying. There were tear tracks all over her face. Plus, there were still tears streaming down her face.

"She was tied up in her bedroom closet. Someone broke into her apartment," Camille explained.

This just kept getting worse and worse. Carlos had been kidnapped. Stephanie's apartment was broken into and Stephanie was tied up.

"He…has Carlos…doesn't he?" Stephanie sobbed.

"Who?" Kendall questioned.

I knew who Stephanie was talking about, and she was right. The person who kidnapped Carlos and the person who broke into her apartment and tied her up were one and the same. It was Sid's dad. I felt so bad for Stephanie. She and Carlos had just started going out too.

"The same person…who…broke into…my apartment…and held…a cloth…over Carlos' mouth…until he was…unconscious," Stephanie answered, her reply fragmented by more sobs.

"Chloroform," I said out loud.

I pulled away from James. I started to head towards the parking lot once again. I didn't even know where Carlos was. All I knew was that I was going to save him. I was going to bring him home to Stephanie.

"Logan, where are you going?" Kendall called out.

"I'm going to get Carlos back," I replied.

"How? You don't even know who the kidnapper is."

"Yeah, I do."

I stopped in my tracks, and turned around to face Kendall, James, Jo, Camille, and Stephanie. I took a deep breath. I really didn't want it to come to this, but I couldn't keep the truth from them any longer. I just hoped Carlos would forgive me for spilling the beans.

"The person who kidnapped Carlos was Sid's dad. The same Sid who was my roommate in juvenile hall. Carlos wasn't the target. I am," I said.

XXXXX

_Carlos' POV_

"No way! I'm not going to do that!" I answered.

If I did that, Logan would get hurt. I wasn't going to do something that would put Logan in danger. I couldn't do much all tied up, but I would still do whatever it took to keep Logan safe from Sid's dad.

"I thought you might say that, which is why I have a backup plan," Sid's dad said.

He rose to his feet and walked over to an antique kitchen table. On top of the table were four small cardboard boxes. The sides of the boxes that faced me had black numbers one to four spray painted on them.

"Pick a box," he instructed me.

"No!" I replied.

He had said there would be consequences if I didn't do what I said when he said it, but I would rather deal with whatever those consequences might be than call Logan and have him come here knowing very well that he was Sid's dad's true target.

"Fine. I'll pick one for you," Sid's dad told me.

He lifted up the cardboard box with the number one spray painted on it. Underneath it was a leather belt. He picked it up and started to slowly make his way over to me. I struggled desperately against my restraints, but I remained rooted in place. I had a bad feeling I knew what Sid's dad intended on doing with that leather belt.

It wasn't too long before he was standing behind me. I felt him rip open my t-shirt. He completely removed it from my body, throwing the tattered remains on the floor. The next thing I knew, I felt and heard the sound of leather on flesh—my flesh. I screamed out in pain.

"I'll stop, Carlos…on one condition. All you have to do is call Logan, and tell him to come here," Sid's dad said.

"Never," I replied stubbornly.

Sid's dad whipped me with the leather belt again. My back arced from the impact. My eyes stung with tears. This time I bit down on my lip so he wouldn't have the satisfaction of hearing me scream. I bit my lip so hard that I drew blood. I could now taste blood in my mouth.

"What about now?" Sid's dad asked.

"Don't count on it!" I retorted.

He laid into me again with the leather belt.

XXXXX

_Logan's POV_

I had finished telling them the truth. I told them everything—every last gruesome detail. I told them what had happened to me in juvie. I told them how Camille's dad, Sid, and Sid's dad were connected. I told them how Carlos and his dad were involved. I told them how Sid and Mr. Sanders had both been caught. I told them why Sid's dad had targeted me and Carlos. I told them why I was his primary target. I told them how I had found a blueprint of The Palm Woods in the warden's quarters at juvenile hall. When I had finished, their jaws had dropped, there were tears in their eyes. They all enveloped me in a hug. I felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders now that they knew the truth.

"Logan, I'm so sorry," Camille said.

"Why didn't you tell us sooner?" James asked.

I looked down at my feet.

"I don't know. I guess because I thought the more people who knew, the more people were in danger. When I saw Sid's dad had a blueprint, and he had been spying on us for who knows how long, I realized that everyone I cared about was in danger anyways, so they might as well know the truth. I think the biggest reason why I didn't tell anyone though was that I thought I could handle this on my own," I replied.

James put a hand on my shoulder.

"Logan, you don't have to do this alone. We'll help you. We'll all help you," he said.

"If you're the primary target, there is no way I'm letting you go anywhere near Sid's dad," Kendall commented to me.

I sighed deeply.

"We may not have a choice. We might have to make a trade—Carlos for me," I told them.

"No way! Absolutely not!" James exclaimed.

It was weird. I should be furious at both James and Camille. I should be, but I wasn't. It's just it all seemed so petty in the grand scheme of things. I mean Carlos was kidnapped. That's really the only thing I could think about. It's not that I had forgiven them. It's not that I had forgotten. It's just we could deal with that later.

"How are we even going to find Carlos?" Stephanie asked.

"We could track his cell phone signal to pinpoint his location," I answered.

"There's just one problem. Carlos' cell phone was in Stephanie's bedroom," Jo stated, holding up the item in question.

Of course it was. Sid's dad had put a lot of planning into this. He wasn't just making it up as he went along. It would be sloppy for Carlos to have his cell phone on him when he was kidnapped. Therefore, Sid's dad made sure it wasn't.

XXXXX

_Carlos' POV_

I woke up and was surprised when I realized I couldn't move because of my restraints. So much for this all having been a bad dream. I guess I must have passed out from the pain. My back felt like it was on fire. I couldn't see how bad it looked, but I could feel blood trickle down my back, and if the agony I was in was any sign, it was probably pretty bad.

"Well, well. Look who decided to wake up. Feel like calling Logan yet?" Sid's dad asked.

I decided to just ignore him. I was shivering. I think a part of it was because I was so terrified. It was probably also because I wasn't wearing a shirt and there was an eerily cold draft in the attic.

"I take that as a 'no' then? Very well, choose a box," he ordered.

By now, I knew that underneath each box was some sort of weapon; some sort of torture device Sid's dad was dying to use on me. There was a sadistic smile on his face as he looked at me.

When he didn't get an answer, he replied, "So be it. I'll choose a box then. We already did box number one. Let's change it up. We'll go with box number four."

He lifted up the cardboard box with a black number four spray painted on it. Underneath it was a Taser gun. There were two voices in my head that were screaming at me. One of them told me to just call Logan and stop this physical abuse. The other told me that it was better I got hurt than Logan. I was supposed to protect Logan. How would I be protecting Logan by handing him over to Sid's dad?

He picked up the Taser, and steadily made his way over to me.

"Last chance. I won't use this on you. All you have to do is say three words: 'I'll call Logan.' If not, then every hour on the hour we'll choose another box. It's your call. So, what will it be?" he asked me.

Since this was the second box, did that mean I had been here for two hours? I had no idea how much time had passed. I couldn't even see the watch on my wrist. I realized for the first time that my helmet—or rather Logan's helmet—was missing. Maybe that's why this was happening to me. I wasn't wearing it, so Logan couldn't protect me. Did it fall off when Sid's dad kidnapped me? Or did he just remove it himself?

Sid's dad was standing in front of me, Taser in hand. He looked at me expectantly. I conjured up a nice big loogie and spit in his face. There's an answer for him. He furiously wiped his face with the sleeve of his jacket.

"Big mistake," he said before using the Taser gun on me.

A current of electricity flowed through my body making it spasm out of control. This hurt far worse than the leather belt did. With the Taser gun, my back wasn't the only part of my body that felt like it was on fire. I felt like my whole body from head to toe was on fire as I got shocked by this new weapon of torture. In a matter of mere seconds, I had lost consciousness.

XXXXX

"Wake up!" I heard someone yell at me.

I struggled to open my eyes, but my eyelids felt like they had sandbags on them. I knew who was yelling at me—Sid's dad. That's what made me try even harder to open my eyes. If I took too long…

"Wake up!" he screamed even louder this time.

I somehow managed to open my eyes. I ached all over. My back was in searing pain. I was exhausted. I was hungry. I was thirsty. I was cold. The only things keeping me upright were the posts I was bound to. Other than that, my body sagged.

"Are you ready to call Logan yet?" Sid's dad asked.

My throat felt like it had sandpaper in it. My mouth was as dry as a desert. I couldn't even vocalize a response. Instead, I just pathetically shook my head left to right repeatedly.

"Then choose a box," he replied.

How was I supposed to choose a box? I couldn't even speak. I couldn't exactly use my fingers to show him a number either. I didn't even want to know what was in the other two boxes. Whatever it was, it couldn't be good. The leather belt and the Taser were already bad enough.

"It looks like I'll be picking a box for you once again. Box number two it is," he said.

He lifted up the corresponding cardboard box, and underneath it was a knife. One edge was smooth. The other edge had jagged little teeth along its edge. My eyes widened in terror. Just when I thought nothing could be worse than the Taser and leather belt…

Tears started streaming down my face. I couldn't even tell him to stop, which only made me cry harder. Why was he doing this to me? I just wanted him to stop. I don't know how much more of this I could take. I just wanted to go home. I just wanted to see my friends again. I especially wanted to see Stephanie again. I had a horrible thought. What if I didn't make it out of this alive? What if I never saw Stephanie again? We had just started going out too! How was that fair? That made me cry harder yet.

Sid's dad picked up the knife and headed in my direction. I saw him get a firm grip on the handle of the blade. I saw him lunge forward, and the next thing I knew I was doubled over in pain as the knife was plunged into my stomach. My heart skipped a beat. My breath got caught in my throat. Black fuzzy spots danced in front of my eyes. The room seemed to be spinning all around me. I soon found myself slipping into unconsciousness once again.

XXXXX

"Wake up!" I barely heard Sid's dad shout at me.

It was even more difficult this time to open my eyes than the last time. The process was sped up when ice cold water was thrown in my face. My eyes flew open immediately. Sid's dad stood in front of me brandishing a now-empty bucket. The water made me shiver even more.

"You're losing a lot of blood. I'm no doctor, but your friend, Logan, he wants to be a doctor when he grows up, right? I bet he probably knows what to do to keep you from dying. You should probably call him. Unless of course, you want to die," he said.

How did Sid's dad know that Logan wanted to be a doctor? I didn't want to die. If what Sid's dad said was true, I could possibly bleed to death. I really didn't want Sid's dad to hurt Logan, but it looked like the only chance I had of making it out of this alive was to call Logan so that he could help fix me.

I feebly shook my head left to right.

"So you'll call Logan then?" Sid's dad asked, his eyes lighting up.

I pitifully bobbed my head up and down.

"I'll go ahead and dial his number," he responded.

Wait a second. How did Sid's dad know Logan's cell phone number? Sid's dad walked over to me after dialing, and held the phone against my face. I cleared my throat, and desperately tried to get my vocal chords to work at least long enough to talk to Logan.

"_Hello?_" Logan answered.

"Help…me…" I got out after great effort.

To Be Continued…

**A/N: So, there's good news and bad news. The good news (for you) is that this story might not come to an end after all. The bad news (for me) is that the reason this story might not come to an end is because I won't live long enough to finish it. This is the most evil chapter yet, and now you probably all want me dead.**


	46. Powerless

**A/N: Even though it looks like the Logan/Camille story will emerge victorious in my poll, this is the first poll I've had where the winning option didn't win by a landslide victory. Maybe I'm getting a little ahead of myself though. The Logan/Camille story hasn't won officially. There is still time to vote if you haven't yet. Just go to the poll on my profile page to vote.**

**Disclaimer: Big Time Rush is the property of Nickelodeon. You know this…**

**Big Time Disaster**

_Powerless_

_Logan's POV_

"Carlos? Where are you? Are you okay?" I asked frantically.

My vision was blurred by tears. Of course he wasn't okay! He had been kidnapped at gunpoint. He was being held hostage. Only instead of wanting money as a ransom, Sid's dad wanted me. The main reason I was crying though was because Carlos was in so much pain; I could hear it in his voice. I knew he was trying to put on a brave front so that he wouldn't worry me, but it wasn't working. I was worried—_very_ worried.

I became even more worried when Carlos didn't answer me. Why wasn't he answering me? What was going on there? Seconds ticked by and I waited in anticipation. Everyone else was quiet—too afraid to talk out of fear that they might miss a word of what I was saying. It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

"_Hello Logan. Remember me? So here's what's going to happen. I'm going to give you the address where you can find me and your friend here. Do not tell anyone else the address. If you do, your friend is as good as dead. I want you and you alone to come here. If you bring anyone with you, your friend will not see the light of another day. Oh, and one more thing; do not call the cops. If you do, well…I think you get the picture. The address is 911 Sycamore Lane in Rancho Cucamonga. See you soon,_" Sid's dad said before hanging up.

The others looked at me expectantly, waiting for me to give some sort of explanation. My hands were shaking as I stuffed my cell phone in my pant pocket. I felt like I was on spaghetti legs my knees were wobbling so badly. It was a chore to even remain standing. _This wasn't real. This couldn't be happening._

"Was that Carlos? Is he okay?" Stephanie asked hopefully, tears in her eyes.

Carlos wasn't okay. I'm such a horrible person. I'm such an awful friend. I don't even deserve to have a friend like Carlos. He got kidnapped because of me. He got hurt because of me. He could die because of me. He was a target yes, but I was the bigger target. Sid's dad was just trying to make an example out of Carlos. He was using him to get to me, and the sad thing was it was working.

My knees buckled, and I would have fallen to the ground if James hadn't caught me.

"Whoa! I got you, buddy!" he said as he stopped my fall.

Kendall was instantly at my side, hovering over me. He had a concerned expression on his face that matched the one James wore.

"Logan, are you okay?" Kendall asked.

"Forget about me. Carlos is the one you should be worried about!" I exclaimed, regaining my balance, and shaking myself free from James' grasp.

I had to get to Carlos, and fast. Time was of the utmost importance. It may very well be running out for Carlos. Still, there was something back at Apartment 2J that I needed to get because I had a hunch I would need it. I scrambled for the stairs.

"Logan, where are you going?" Kendall shouted, giving chase.

"Hey! I thought we agreed that you didn't have to do this alone?" James asked, as he was in pursuit.

It was frustrating. It seemed so pointless. I had told them everything so that I wouldn't have to deal with this on my own. Now, as it turned out, I was the only one who could do anything at all thanks to Sid's dad's demands. I hated feeling so powerless. He was the one who held all the cards. He was the one calling the shots.

I was now on the second floor of The Palm Woods. I made a beeline for Apartment 2J. I could hear more than two pairs of footsteps behind me. In addition to Kendall and James, I suspected the other pairs of footsteps belonged to Jo, Camille, and Stephanie. I didn't have time to stop and chat though.

"We did, but Sid's dad has other ideas. I'm not the one who makes the rules. I just have to follow them. I keep their location a secret. I don't call the cops. I come alone. That's what he wants. If I don't cooperate, Carlos will be the one who pays the price," I said out loud.

I pulled my wallet out of my pant pocket, and fumbled for my keycard. At long last, I pulled it out and inserted it into the slot. The light on the indicator turned green, and I opened the door to Apartment 2J.

"There has to be some other way!" Camille remarked.

"Yeah, you could at least tell us where they are at. How is he going to know whether you tell us or not?" Jo asked.

"I don't know, but I didn't know he would know precisely what apartment you live in, what apartment Camille lives in, what apartment Stephanie lives in, and what apartment I live in, but somehow he does. There's no telling what this guy is capable of. It would be a mistake to underestimate him. It's too big of a gamble to even try disobeying any of his orders," I replied.

I had made it to my bedroom. I got down on all fours and pulled an under bed storage container out from under my bed. I popped the lid off, and immediately found what I had been seeking—a first aid kit. After grabbing it, I headed for the front door once again, not even bothering to put the lid on my under bed storage container or put it back underneath my bed. There was no time for that.

"Oh no! Carlos is hurt, isn't he?" Stephanie commented, her voice breaking.

"Yes, but I don't know how badly. For all I know, it's nothing. This is just a precaution," I replied reassuringly.

I was lying to Stephanie, and I knew it. I just hoped she didn't know it. I didn't want her to worry about Carlos any more than she already did. The pain in Carlos' voice when he uttered, 'Help…me…' haunted me. It was far from nothing. Fresh tears rolled down the sides of my face.

"Logan, you don't have to do this! Please don't do this!" Camille begged me.

I could hear the tears in her voice. I could see them in her eyes.

"Yes, I do have to do this! If I don't do what he says, he'll harm Carlos. If I don't show up at all, he'll harm Carlos. The only way he _won't_ harm Carlos is if I do exactly what he says," I responded.

"You want to talk about risks? You want to talk about gambles? This is too big of a gamble! He could hurt you! Or worse, kill you!" Kendall exclaimed.

I knew he was only trying to get through to me, but he was wasting his time. My mind had already been made up. Besides, it's not like I had much of a choice to begin with. He couldn't protect me this time, and I knew that was tearing him up inside.

"You think I haven't thought of that? Well I have, and frankly, it scares me to death!" I exclaimed, before my outburst was halted by my sobs. "I'm the only one who can do anything though, so I'm either getting Carlos out of there, or I'll die trying."

"Stop it! Don't you dare say that! Don't you even think it!" James reprimanded.

I thought it was a fair trade though. Carlos' safety for my own. After all, Carlos wouldn't even be in this mess if it wasn't for me. What may or may not happen to me is insignificant. All I care about is Carlos' welfare and the welfare of everyone else dear to me. I would take a bullet for my friends. I would get hit by a car for my friends. I would leap through fire for my friends. I would do whatever it took for my friends.

"I'm doing this, so you have to let me go," I said.

XXXXX

_Officer Garcia's POV_

I pulled into the parking lot at The Palm Woods. I had just got back from Las Vegas. I didn't want to leave until I personally saw to it that both Sid and Mr. Sanders were behind bars where they belonged. Two down, one to go.

I was still driving a rental car. I had my gun and badge with me at all times, so I could identify myself as a police officer. It's just that a rental car wasn't as conspicuous as a squad car with sirens on the top.

I was excited to see my son again. I was so incredibly proud of him. If it wasn't for him, Sid and Mr. Sanders probably wouldn't have been caught. He played his part brilliantly when he faked his own death. It was a scary experience for him and me both, but he was a trooper.

I was surprised to see Logan run out to the parking lot just as I was stepping out of my vehicle. He looked just as shocked to see me as I was to see him. Last time I was here, Logan was on life support. I hadn't even talked to my son in a while, so I had no idea when Logan was taken off life support and made a full recovery.

"Officer Garcia! It's so good to see you!" Logan said excitedly.

"It's good to see you too, Logan! Healthy too!" I replied.

Then, just like that, Logan's expression changed. Kendall, James, Jo, Camille, and Stephanie had joined us in the parking lot. However, I didn't see my son anywhere. I tried not to panic, but this had me worried.

"Where's Carlos?" I asked.

"He's been kidnapped by Sid's dad. It's my fault really. I'll explain on the way if you'll drive me," Logan said.

"Get in."

XXXXX

I listened attentively as Logan explained to me all that had happened since my last visit to L.A. leading up to Carlos getting kidnapped. When he got to that part, I tightened my grip on the steering wheel so much that my knuckles started to turn white.

I felt bad for Logan. He was blaming himself for all this. He couldn't be more wrong. All of this was out of his control. None of it was his fault. I know my son would agree with me too. Logan and Carlos had always been really close. I wanted my son back. I also didn't want Logan to be harmed.

I was in such a dilemma. I was so frustrated that I wanted to pull my hair out. Logan told me about his phone call with Sid's dad. How could Logan stand a chance against Sid's dad? Logan was just a kid! I couldn't even protect Logan. Not if I wanted my son to be safe, to be alive.

"What if I drop you off a little ways away from the address? That way Sid's dad will think that you came alone. I'll stay where I dropped you off at on a stakeout. I'll call an ambulance, and have them wait with me," I said.

"Sounds good. Just make sure they don't turn their sirens on. We don't want them to draw any unnecessary attention," Logan replied.

I would make sure I was far enough away so that if Sid's dad were to look out the window, he couldn't see me. However, I wouldn't be so far away that if Sid's dad were to leave, I wouldn't be able to catch him or at the very least see which way he went.

"We'll get Sid's dad, Logan. We'll make him pay for everything he's done. If anything goes wrong—if I hear a gunshot or I see him try to escape—I'll jump into action. I'll keep a vigilant watch," I said.

"Please don't. At least, not until Sid's dad is away from Carlos. That way, he can't hurt him," Logan meekly stated.

I could tell that Logan was trying to keep it together, but he was failing miserably. He was an emotional wreck. He was scared. He was blaming himself for everything. He wanted his friend back. I didn't know how to comfort and console him.

"If it comes down to saving me or saving Carlos, save Carlos. He's your son. Don't worry about me. If you don't save him, then all of this will have been for nothing," Logan commented.

I hated even thinking about having to choose between Carlos and Logan. I hated that Logan didn't even want me to think about saving him in the event that I have to choose. I always knew that he was selfless, but did he value his own life so little?

"Logan…" I started to say.

"Promise me," Logan pleaded.

"I promise."

To Be Continued…

**A/N: There. See? No one got tortured in this chapter. Aren't you so proud of me? On second thought, don't answer that…**


	47. Hero

**A/N: So when I originally envisioned this chapter, it was pretty sad. If this turns out anything like what was in my head, then keep a box of tissues handy. If not, well…it was sadder in my head. Lol. **

**Disclaimer: Hey, guess what? Disclaimer starts with the letter "d." So does depressed, which is what writing this disclaimer makes me…I own nothing.**

**Big Time Disaster**

_Hero_

_Carlos' POV_

I was shivering violently. It was so cold in this attic. It was practically like a refrigerator up here. I didn't even have a top on. My stomach rumbled. My sides ached from not having ate anything in I can't even remember how long. After Sid's dad got Logan to agree to come here, he stopped torturing me every hour on the hour, so now I couldn't even tell how much time had passed.

I could feel my strength leave me. I could feel my life force, my blood, being drained from the knife wound in my abdomen. The posts I was bound to kept me upright, but I could still tell that I was gradually sagging forward more and more. My shoulders were being spread further and further apart the more my body sagged. They were now at an uncomfortable position, and the discomfort just increased the weaker I became because that meant my body sagged even more.

I couldn't even feel my fingers. They were way past the point of being numb. I couldn't even flex my fingers. For all I knew, they weren't even attached to my hand anymore.

I was so parched. I didn't even know when the last time I had anything to drink was. It was a struggle to even keep my eyes open. I didn't even know what I had to keep my eyes open for. It's not like there was anything to see. Everything that there was for me to see I didn't want to see. Like Sid's dad or the boxes that hid his weapons of torture. I felt so light-headed.

I had always wondered where I would die. The more time passed, the more I thought this was where I would die. Tears fell unchecked from my eyes. I couldn't even stop them if I wanted to. I didn't want to die. I didn't want to die here. I especially didn't want to die at the hands of Sid's dad. The more time passed, the more I thought that as much as I didn't _want_ those things to happen, they all _would_ happen.

I hoped Logan would show up any second now. That was such an awful thing for me to hope for. I'm such a horrible friend. Yeah, Logan showing up would be good…for me. It would be bad for him though. I shouldn't _want_ him to show up for that very reason, yet I did. I mean I didn't want him to show up _because_ it would be bad for him. I just wanted him to show up because…well, I just wanted him to.

The pain in my back was awful. Enough time had passed that the blood on my back clotted up, leaving scabs all over my back.

I barely noticed that Sid's dad had gone off somewhere; he was no longer in the attic with me. I breathed a sigh of relief. If he wasn't in the attic with me, then he couldn't torture me anymore. Then a feeling of dread came over me. What if he left the attic so that he could lurk in the shadows waiting to ambush Logan when he got here? At least if he was in the attic with me, I would know where he was at and what he was doing.

"Carlos?" Logan shouted. The sound of his voice was music to my ears. "Can you hear me, buddy? Where are you?"

My throat was dry, and my vocal chords protested, but I had to call out to Logan and let him know where I was. For the first time since I've been taken prisoner, there was a trace of a smile on my face. I wasn't alone anymore. Logan was here. He came to save me. Tears of gratitude spilled from my eyes.

"…Attic…" I called out. I was only able to get one word out, but I hoped I said it loud enough for him to hear me. I was worried that he hadn't heard me.

Then, I heard light footsteps approaching. I knew they couldn't belong to Sid's dad. He was far too big to have such light footsteps. My heart raced with excitement. I was so glad he was here. I couldn't wait to see him.

"Oh my God! Carlos!" Logan exclaimed upon seeing me.

He rushed over to me. In a twist of fate, he was the healthy one, and I was the one wounded. It's a horrible thing to say, but I had almost gotten used to seeing Logan battered and bruised. Only, this time he wasn't; I was.

I wanted to raise my head so that I could see his face, but I kept trying and failing miserably. I don't think I had any strength left in me. I think I could feel him tug on the duct tape that bound one of my wrists to a post. I'm not sure though. I couldn't exactly feel my wrists either.

"I'm going to get you down from here, okay?" Logan asked me, his voice cracking on the last word.

I wanted to tell him not to cry. I wanted to lift my head and give him a smile that would reassure him. I couldn't do either of those things though. Knowing that I couldn't, it killed me.

The next thing I knew, I was falling forward.

"I got you, Carlos. I got you," Logan said, catching me.

He gently laid me on the floor. I heard him open something. It sounded plastic. I couldn't even move my head to see what it was. I hated how helpless I had become. I heard a tearing sound. Then, I saw his face hover over me. There were tears in his eyes. There was something else too—guilt.

What did he have to feel guilty about? He didn't blame himself for what happened to me, did he? If so, that was ridiculous! He didn't kidnap me. He didn't whip me with a leather belt. He didn't shock me with a Taser. He didn't stab me with a knife. That was all Sid's dad!

"This might sting a little," Logan said softly to me.

I hissed in pain as he put something on my stomach. My body flinched from the contact.

"I'm sorry, Carlos," he told me.

I felt him press something soft on my stomach. I could only see his face. I couldn't see what he was doing. He avoided my gaze for some reason. I saw that he was trying to stay calm, but it wasn't working—he was panicking. His eyes darted back and forth wildly as he worked. A steady stream of tears leaked from his eyes.

"Can you sit up for me?" Logan asked.

I tried. I really did, but I couldn't. I wanted to do it for Logan though so badly. I couldn't help but feel that I was letting him down by not being able to help him help me.

"It's okay, Carlos," he responded.

He put an arm under my back, and I clenched my teeth. I hissed in pain as he touched the tender skin on my back. He hung his head in shame and cried even harder. I didn't want him to cry. I especially didn't want him to cry because of me.

"I'm so sorry," he said to me.

I hated how he was apologizing to me so much. He didn't know about the bruises and welts on my back. He didn't know how tender it was. He didn't know that Sid's dad had taken a leather strap to my back repeatedly.

He sat me up and I felt something wrap itself around my ribcage. I figured he was bandaging me up.

"S'cold…" I slurred, my body shivering.

He carefully laid my head on his lap. I then saw him take off his jacket. He helped me sit up again, trying not to pay attention to me flinching when he touched my back again. He put my arms in the sleeves of the jacket.

He held me to him in an embrace. He used both of his hands to rub small circles in the arms of the jacket in an effort to generate heat.

"Better?" he asked me, hope in his voice.

His jacket helped some, but I was still cold. I couldn't answer him though. I wondered if he thought I was ignoring him. I knew that I wasn't ignoring him. I wanted to answer him. I would give anything to just be able to nod my head. Instead his question went unanswered.

I was still in a lot of pain. I couldn't tell Logan that though. Even if I could communicate, I couldn't tell Logan that. He was trying so hard to help me. He was doing all he could to help me. I didn't have the heart to tell him that it wasn't working probably as much as he would have liked it to.

I struggled to keep my eyes open. I was so tired. I was afraid though that if I fell asleep, I might not wake up. I didn't want to worry Logan more than he already was. So I fought even harder to stay awake.

"You stay with me, okay Carlos? That way…" Logan said before choking back a sob. "That way I know you're still alive."

"S'tired…" I slurred.

"I know, Carlos. I know."

He tightened his hold on me. He rubbed the arms of the jacket faster and harder. He frantically tried to warm me up. I wanted to tell him to take it easy and slow down a bit. I noticed that his body was shaking with sobs.

"D-don't…c-cry…" I stuttered.

Logan laughed lightly. "I'm sorry, Carlos. I can't help it. I'm so worried about you. Can you stand? Let's get you out of here," he said.

I saw someone else enter the attic. Logan didn't though. The way we were positioned, his back was to the entrance of the attic. I had to warn him before it was too late. It was Sid's dad. He was back.

"B-behind y-you…" I stammered.

Logan glanced behind him and saw Sid's dad. He laid me down gently, before rising to his feet and taking a protective stance in front of me. His hands were clenched into fists at his side.

"T-two….b-box…t-two…" I stuttered.

Logan quickly made his way over to the antique table, and lifted up box number two. Underneath it was the knife. As he picked it up, I could see that it still had my blood on it.

"Why hello, Logan," Sid's dad greeted sinisterly.

"You monster!" Logan yelled, his grip on the handle of the knife tightening.

I wanted nothing more but to get up and help Logan. After several failed attempts, I gave up trying to even sit up. I pressed my forearms into the floor, and somehow managed to prop myself up on my elbows so I could at least get a better look.

Sid's dad stalked his way over to the antique table. Logan rushed in to stab him with the knife. Sid's dad caught his arm. Logan went flying as Sid's dad threw him off him. The knife clattered on the floor. I heard a bunch of boxes get knocked over as Logan went crashing through them.

"Never bring a knife to a gun fight," Sid's dad commented, as he lifted up box number three.

Underneath it was a gun. He picked it up, and cocked it. I was so scared for Logan. Sid's dad now had a weapon, and Logan didn't. Sid's dad was going to shoot Logan. I just knew it. My eyes leaked with tears at the thought of Logan getting hurt. I rolled onto my stomach, and dragged my way towards the discarded knife. I had to help Logan. My eyes widened in fear when I saw Sid's dad point the gun at me.

"Carlos don't!" Logan screamed.

I heard the sound of a gunshot. I squeezed my eyes tightly, and turned my head away. I heard the sound of a body hitting the floor. I reluctantly opened my eyes, and saw Logan lying on his side in front of me. He was cradling his left shoulder. I was horrified when I saw that he had been shot there. Logan took a bullet for me. That bullet was meant for me.

"L-Logan!" I exclaimed, dragging myself towards my fallen friend.

"It's okay, Carlos. I'm okay," Logan said, his voice saying differently.

Sid's dad slowly and deliberately crept his way over to the two of us. He had a huge evil grin on his face. I tried to drag myself towards Logan even faster. I had to reach him before Sid's dad did. I had to make sure Logan was really okay.

"See, unlike that incompetent fool, Mr. Sanders, I figured you'd be wearing a bulletproof vest," Sid's dad said.

He lifted up Logan's shirt, and saw that was indeed the case.

"Unfortunately for you, I shot you in one of the places your vest couldn't protect you," Sid's dad remarked.

I saw Logan pick the knife up off the floor, but I wasn't the only one who saw that. Sid's dad aimed his gun at Logan once more.

"I don't think so," Sid's dad said.

A second gunshot echoed through the attic. Logan had thrown the knife like a dart at Sid's dad. It had buried itself in the chest of Sid's dad. He staggered backwards a few steps. He looked down at the knife in complete shock. Then, he fell backwards to the floor.

I heard Logan scream out in pain. Now he was nursing his right leg. He grabbed it with both of his hands. That's when I saw that he had been shot in the upper thigh. Between both of his bullet wounds, I was frightened at how much blood he was now losing. My eyes stung with tears. This couldn't be happening. Logan should never have come for me. I should have known something like this would happen.

"L-Logan!" I said feebly.

Then I remembered something he might be able to use to help stop his bleeding—the leather belt.

"B-box one," I told him.

He reached up, and knocked over said box. He grabbed the leather belt, and fastened it tightly around his leg just above the bullet wound. I saw him try to stand up, but he fell back to the floor when he tried to put weight on his injured leg.

I watched in horror as Sid's dad put Logan in a headlock, wrapping his arm around his throat. He pulled him up to his feet. With his free arm, he undid the strap of Logan's helmet—_my_ helmet. He pulled it off him, and chucked it out the only window in the attic. I could hear the sound of glass shattering. He then pressed the gun against the side of Logan's head.

"If you're going to try to kill me, you better make damn sure that you finish the job!" Sid's dad remarked.

Logan tried to free himself, but it was no use. Sid's dad was far too strong. I tried to stand up. I needed to help Logan now more than ever. I was frustrated. If only I wasn't so weak. If only I had more strength. I couldn't help but feel like I was letting Logan down. Sid's dad was probably about to kill Logan right in front of me and I couldn't even do anything to stop him.

"Say goodbye to Logan, Carlos!" Sid's dad remarked.

To Be Continued…


	48. Rescue

**A/N: Happy Halloween everybody! So, my costume is technically an "Evil Sorcerer." However, being a Final Fantasy geek, I prefer to be called a Level 25 Black Mage. Anyways, yeah, evil sorcerer…I think that's fitting, right? I have like three versions of this chapter in my head, but I decided to settle for this version. FYI, two of the three versions involved Logan…well, let's just say that it didn't end well for Logan though it did END for Logan, if you catch my drift. I would have uploaded this sooner, but my beloved fan fiction wife had to go on an updating spree all of a sudden, so I had to go and review all of her chapters first. So yeah, it's all her fault! I think it's our first lover's spat, but it happens, right? All couples fight at one time or another…Anyways, this Author's Note is now uber-long, so I'm shutting up now…**

**Disclaimer: In the unlikely event that there was any doubt, I do not own Big Time Rush. Wishful thinking people, wishful thinking…**

**Big Time Disaster**

_Rescue_

_Officer Garcia's POV_

When I heard the first gunshot, it took all the self-control I had to not go and kick the front door down and rush in there. I remembered what Logan had told me about waiting until Sid's dad was away from Carlos before I went in there. Besides, maybe it was just wishful thinking, but I hoped the bullet had missed its intended target. Or maybe it was just a warning shot. Yeah, that's what it was.

Then when I heard the second gunshot, my warning shot theory was obliterated into smithereens. After the first shot had been fired, I don't think I had any self-control left in reserve. I had a feeling of dread. I started to wonder who had been shot; Carlos? Logan? Sid's dad? I seriously hoped it was the latter. Yeah, maybe Carlos or Logan had control of the gun and shot Sid's dad.

I knew that wasn't the case when I saw a black helmet hurtle through the window. This house was in the middle of nowhere, and it was quiet as a mouse here. The sound of glass shattering was made that much louder because of that very reason. Self-control be damned! I was going in there!

I removed my gun from its holster and held it at the ready. I ran faster than I had ever run before in my life. Just as I reached the front door of the residence, it opened. Sid's dad emerged from the door, holding a very scared Logan hostage, a gun pressed against the side of his head.

I should have known. When I saw the black helmet fly through the window, I assumed it was Carlos that had been shot. After all, it was Carlos' helmet. However, I forgot all about how he and Logan had switched helmets. It wasn't Carlos that got shot. I quickly found the two bullet wounds on Logan. One was on his right upper thigh. The other was on his left shoulder. I noticed someone had tied a belt above the bullet wound on his leg.

My eyes brimmed with tears. I felt like such a terrible person. When I saw that it wasn't my son that got shot, I felt relieved. I felt relieved knowing that instead it was my son's best friend that had been shot…_twice_. Logan didn't deserve to be shot twice. Logan didn't deserve to be shot at all. So then why was I glad that he had and Carlos hadn't?

"Let. Him. Go," I said, emphasizing each and every word.

Sid's dad smirked at me.

"Well, well. If it isn't Deputy Daddy," he commented.

There was an inward struggle going on. I had a clear shot. I had no doubt that I could shoot Sid's dad. It would be a lethal shot too. What was holding me back was the thought of Sid's dad shifting his position or worse, using Logan as a shield. Taking that into consideration, it was too risky. I couldn't pull the trigger. How would I explain that to my son? That would go so well.

"Logan was shot," I would say.

"By who?" Carlos would reply.

"Me."

If there was one thing I had learned to expect from Sid's dad, it was the unexpected. Try as I may, I just couldn't get a good read on him. Try as I may, I just couldn't figure him out. There was no telling what he might do next. He was so wildly unpredictable like that.

"Let him go or I will shoot!" I warned.

"Put your weapon down or _I_ will shoot!" Sid's dad responded.

As if to emphasize his point, he changed targets, and put a bullet in the foreheads of both of the paramedics that had followed me when I took off running. They were dead before they even hit the ground.

Logan had tears in his eyes as he pleaded with me. "Officer Garcia, remember what we talked about earlier? Just do what he says. Please? Carlos needs you. Your _son_ needs you."

"I can't just leave you, Logan. Not with _him_," I said motioning towards Sid's dad with my gun.

My heart raced. I was at a crossroad. I had an important decision to make. It was a decision that very well could be a matter of life and death. Do I give in to Sid's dad's demands? Or do I risk possibly hurting Logan by ending it right here right now?

"Officer Garcia, _please_ do what he says. I don't want to die. He'll kill me if you don't drop your weapon. You _know_ he will. If you do what he says, then at least I'll be able to live a little longer," Logan said, his voice shaky.

I was furious. I didn't just want Logan to live _a little_ longer. I wanted him to live, period. My index finger was itching to squeeze the trigger. I had complete confidence in myself and my aim. Sid's dad was the wild card though. He changed everything.

Little did I know that there was another wild card—Logan. Little did I know that he wouldn't just sit there and let himself be the victim. Before either Sid's dad or I could react, Logan elbowed Sid's dad in the face, freeing himself from his grasp. He dove to the ground.

"Son of a…" Sid's dad muttered angrily, holding the bridge of his nose.

"Officer Garcia, now!" Logan shouted.

I pulled the trigger, and put a bullet right between Sid's dad's eyes. He dropped like a ton of bricks. I couldn't believe it; it was finally over. Sid's dad was finally dead. I was instantly at Logan's side. I went to help him up, but he pushed my hand away.

"Go to Carlos. I can wait," he told me.

"Nice teamwork, Logan!" I commented, giving him a warm smile.

I hurried in the front door all too eager to be reunited with my son at long last.

XXXXX

_Carlos' POV_

I gasped in horror when I heard two gunshots one right after the other. The way I saw it, that could mean three things—Sid's dad got shot twice, Logan got shot twice, or they both got shot once. I was hoping for the first option. I don't know how Logan would have been able to wrestle the gun away from Sid's dad, but I liked the first option way more than the other two. Besides, it was better than the idea of Logan being shot a total of three times, or worse, four.

I held my breath as I waited in anticipation. I was gripped by fear when I heard another gunshot. My eyes stung with tears. Had Logan been shot a _fifth_ time? How could Sid's dad be so cruel? I should've done something—_anything_—to stop Sid's dad. I should've helped Logan. I failed him. He protected me, but when it came to me returning the favor, I failed epically.

This was all my fault. Stupid me. I had to go and get kidnapped. If I hadn't, Logan wouldn't have been shot five times! If I hadn't, Logan would still be alive! I was helpless. I was completely and utterly helpless. I was worthless too. If only I wasn't such a joke. If only I wasn't such an invalid.

What was I going to tell everyone? How could I even face them after all of this? How could I look them in the eyes knowing that I played a hand in the death of their best friend? How could I even look myself in the mirror knowing that I was to blame for Logan's death? How could I even sleep at night?

I heard a pair of footsteps approaching the attic. They weren't Logan's footsteps. They weren't Sid's dad's either. Who did they belong to? I was scared. I didn't know who was coming. Were they friend or foe?

Then, I saw my father. I breathed a huge sigh of relief when I saw him.

"Carlos! My boy!" he called out happily, as he rushed over to me.

"Papi!" I said weakly.

He scooped me up in his arms bridal style. I would have been embarrassed if there was anyone else in the attic with us. Okay, I would have been _more_ embarrassed if we had an audience. I blushed fiercely even though it was just the two of us in the attic.

"Logan?" I asked.

"He's fine, Carlos. He's outside. Logan's quite a hero. Saving you. Helping me get rid of Sid's dad once and for all," my dad said.

"He's gone?"

"He's gone, Carlos. For good. He won't ever be able to hurt you or Logan again."

XXXXX

_Logan's POV_

I saw Officer Garcia walk outside carrying Carlos in his arms. Sid's dad was gone. Camille's dad and Sid were behind bars. It was over. It was finally over. I couldn't be any more relieved. Maybe my life could go back to normal now. Maybe Carlos' life could go back to normal now.

"Logan!" Carlos called out.

"It's okay, Carlos! I'm okay!" I replied.

Officer Garcia, with Carlos in tow, ran towards me. I opened my arms up and prepared for some Hollywood hug like the kind you would see in movies. Only…it never came. I wasn't certain, but it felt like they ran right through me. What was that all about? Was I imagining things?

I held up my hands, and saw that they were transparent. I looked myself up and down, and saw that my hands weren't the only things that were transparent. From head to toe, I was completely transparent. What was going on? What is this?

I was dumbfounded as I watched Carlos and his dad. Carlos' father gently set his son down. Then I saw Officer Garcia roll another me over. Upon closer inspection, I saw that this other me was lying in a decent sized pool of blood. When I dove to the ground after I elbowed Sid's dad in the face, the leather belt must have come off. My femoral artery must've been nicked by the bullet that Sid's dad put in my leg. The femur was the longest bone in the human body. Ruptured femoral arteries could cause people to bleed out and die. Plus, nothing had been done to other me's shoulder. It too had been bleeding freely this whole time.

Was I…_dead_?

"Logan? Don't do this to us! You stay with us, you hear?" Officer Garcia yelled.

I saw that both Carlos and his father were crying profusely. I went to put my hand on Carlos' shoulder, but my hand passed right through him.

"Logie?" Carlos whimpered.

Hearing Carlos say my name like that broke my heart. That is, if I even had a heart. If I was truly dead, then I guess I didn't have a heart to be broken. I guess my heart had stopped beating. I knew it was bad when even Carlos' dad was crying. He wasn't emotional. He wasn't sensitive. He was far from it. As long as I've known him, I had never seen him cry once. He took sensitivity training nine times to help him show a more sensitive side; before, when it came to work, he would often go overboard.

This couldn't be happening. After everything I had been through, this couldn't be how it ends, could it? I was a fighter yes, but I wasn't Superman. I wasn't a man of steel. I wasn't invincible. I was only human. I was a mere mortal.

Officer Garcia was now giving other me chest compressions. After five chest compressions, he would put two fingers to other me's throat to check for a pulse. He would shake his head in disappointment, and start the cycle anew.

"Wake up!" I screamed at other me.

A solitary tear fell from the corner of my eye. I dabbed at it with my finger. I held it up to my face to inspect it. How could I be crying? I didn't really believe in ghosts. Science disproves any notion of the supernatural. For argument's sake though, isn't that what I was now—a ghost? Ghosts don't cry.

Mama Knight had told me that I was the one that kept the others together. I was like the glue. I was the heart. If I truly was dead, would they somehow manage to stick together? Or would they fall apart proving Mama Knight right? I didn't want to know either way. This was some bizarre dream, some twisted nightmare. Whatever _this_ was, it wasn't real. It couldn't be.

"Come on, kid! You have too many people waiting for you back at The Palm Woods!" Officer Garcia exclaimed as he continued to give other me chest compressions.

The others. If I really was dead, then once again I was deprived of the opportunity to say goodbye to any of them. How come life was so unfair like that? Of course, I hadn't known I'd need to tell them goodbye. I thought I'd be returning to them safe and sound, maybe a little worse for wear, but still _alive_.

Carlos was trembling like a leaf. His bottom lip quivered. A seemingly never-ending supply of tears cascaded from his eyes. He was in shock. He was in pure disbelief. Unless I was seeing things, I also saw guilt in his eyes. What did he have to feel guilty about? None of this was his fault! He didn't put a bullet in my leg! He didn't put a bullet in my shoulder!

If he felt guilty for me coming to his rescue, he shouldn't. I just make for a lousy rescuer. I just make for a horrible hero. Rescuers and heroes are supposed to survive the rescue that way they can rescue again. I saved Carlos, but I wouldn't be doing any more of that. I wouldn't be doing much of anything anymore.

"Dad, save him! You have to save him!" Carlos begged.

To Be Continued…

**A/N: So this wasn't even one of the three versions of this chapter I had cooked up in my head. Go figure. It was kind of like one of the three of them though. So, let's just call this Option 3B. **


	49. Young Love

**A/N: You're running out of time to vote on which project you want me to take on next. Again, only votes cast on the poll on my profile page will count. You have until I upload Chapter 50 of Big Time Disaster to vote. **

**Disclaimer: Seriously. Why are you even reading this disclaimer? Scroll down or something. Stop reading this now. That means YOU!**

**Big Time Disaster**

_Young Love_

_Carlos' POV_

I heard an annoying beeping sound. I had grown used to that sound from visiting Logan so much in the hospital. Wait a second. Logan! I sat up in my hospital bed, cracking my eyes open. I felt someone gently push me back down.

"It's okay, Carlos. You're okay, buddy," James said.

I remembered it so clearly. Logan had been lying face down in the grass in the front yard of the place where Sid's dad held me prisoner. Logan was lying in a pool of his own blood that kept getting bigger and bigger. My dad kept trying to revive him, but it wasn't working. I kept screaming at him to save Logan.

I tried to sit up again, but this time it was Kendall that carefully pushed me back down.

"Take it easy, Carlitos. You don't want your stitches to come undone, do you?" he asked me.

Huh. When did I get stitches? It doesn't matter. All that matters is Logan. Where is he? How is he doing? Is he okay? Is he…_alive_? He better be. He saved my life. I owed him…big time. How was I supposed to pay him back if he…Stop it Carlos! Don't think like that!

"Logan? Where's Logan? Is he okay? I want to see him!" I said, speaking a mile a minute, hoarse voice and all.

I started to have second thoughts. Maybe I didn't want to know. At least if he wasn't okay, then I didn't want to know. If he was okay, then I would want to know.

"Relax, son. You can't see Logan right now. He's in surgery," my dad explained.

Surgery? Then…that means…he's alive! I knew it! Well, I didn't know it, know it, but I hoped he was, and he is! Logan was right; we couldn't get rid of him that easy. How did he pull this off? I thought for sure he had died. I'm no doctor, but I saw how much blood he had lost, and losing that much blood couldn't be good.

My eyes brimmed with tears—tears of joy.

"So let me get this straight; Logan's alive?" I asked, just to make sure.

"Yeah, and you have your Papi to thank for that," Stephanie answered.

Stephanie. For a while there, I never thought I'd even see her again. I saw how she looked at me; it wasn't so much looking at me as it was watching me. She didn't take her eyes off me even for a split second. It was almost like she was scared what might happen if she did.

"Thanks Dad! You saved Logan. You saved me. If it wasn't for you…" I said before I was interrupted.

"Hey! Don't even think about that. All that matters is that you're both alive. All that matters is that you're both safe," my dad said, wiping a stray tear from my face with his thumb.

I couldn't help but notice that Camille remained pretty silent. I wondered if maybe it was because she was mad at me. Maybe she blamed me for what happened to Logan. If it wasn't for Logan trying to save me, he would never have got shot twice. He would never have almost died…again.

"Camille, are you okay?" I asked timidly.

She laughed. Her reaction confused me.

"I couldn't even begin to imagine what you went through, Carlos. After all of that, you are asking _me_ if I'm okay? Sounds like someone else I know," Camille replied.

"Well? Are you? You're not mad at me, are you?" I asked meekly.

This whole experience had changed me in ways I never thought it could, but one thing didn't change; I still just wanted everybody to get along. I had seen Camille angry, and believe me, it wasn't pretty.

"Of course not! I could never be mad at you, Carlos! Don't worry about me. I'm fine. I'm just so grateful that you and Logan both made it out of this in one piece," she answered.

"Yeah! Do you have any idea how worried I was about you? Huh? Do you? If you ever scare me like that again, I'll…I'll…" Stephanie trailed off.

"You'll what?" I challenged.

She cupped my face with her hands, leaned in, and planted a kiss square on my lips. I hadn't expected that at all. I think I almost fainted.

"Getaroom!" James remarked, trying to disguise his comment as a sneeze.

"Dude, this _is_ my room!" I replied.

I then pulled Stephanie closer to me as my lips crashed into hers. Okay, so I didn't have much experience kissing girls. I hadn't really even had a first girlfriend yet. Mercedes didn't really count. Since Sasha was hired to _pretend_ to be my girlfriend, I don't think she really counted either. Plus, she doesn't like corn dogs! What is that? Anyways, I must not be too bad of a kisser, because if I didn't know any better, Stephanie was sure enjoying herself.

"Hmm…if this is how you punish me for scaring you, then I should scare you more often," I stated, wagging my eyebrows.

Stephanie lightly shoved me.

"Yeah, and you just ruined the moment. Real smooth, Carlos. Real smooth," Stephanie commented.

My dad shook his head in disapproval.

"I see you learned nothing from me about girls. What really makes your mother's toes curl…" my dad started to say.

"Ah! I'm going to stop you right there!" I exclaimed, my cheeks turning as red as a tomato.

Everyone in the room was laughing at me. This just made me blush even more. I had never been more embarrassed. I had never been more humiliated. I suddenly became really fascinated by the pillow on my hospital bed.

XXXXX

_Logan's POV_

_Beep…beep…beep…_

Oh, for the love of all that is holy!

_Beep…beep…beep…_

Whoever invented heart monitors and made them so obnoxiously annoying should be burned at the stake!

_Beep…beep…beep…_

I'm in a hospital…_again_! Really? I mean…really?

I could hear a bunch of people talking. I couldn't really make out who the voices belonged to though.

"Did you see that?"

"See what?"

"I think he's waking up."

"Logie? Can you hear me?"

No.

"Open your eyes."

I don't want to. I'm so tired. I just want to hit the snooze.

"I thought you said he was waking up?"

"I thought he was!"

"Does _this_ look awake to you?"

Oh my gosh! I think I much rather listen to the irritating sound of the heart monitor than this! Lucky me though, their incessant chattering is drowning out the beeping of the heart monitor. I cracked my eyes open, and regretted that action when I was blinded by white light. Okay, why did white light have to be so…white? I tried to open my eyes a second time, more cautiously this time.

"Logan!" Camille gushed.

"Ha! I told you he was waking up!" James remarked.

I had so many questions. Where was everyone else? Why were James and Camille the only ones in the room with me? Where was Carlos? Was he okay? Was he alive? How was I even alive? I thought I had died. Not that I wanted to die, but I saw Officer Garcia trying futilely to revive me—other me-whatever.

"Where's Carlos? How is he?" I asked.

I tried to use my elbows to push myself up into a sitting position, but I found that I couldn't because my left arm was in a sling. A sharp, stabbing pain shot up my left arm when I put pressure on it. My eyes stung with tears as I squeezed them shut. I hissed in pain through clenched teeth.

"Whoa! Don't try to do too much too soon," James said.

I opened my eyes. They scanned every nook and cranny of my hospital room in search of Carlos. I had saved him, right? What if I hadn't? What if bandaging him up wasn't enough? Just because I wanted to be a doctor didn't mean I was one yet! I was so stupid thinking that my little first aid kit could make him all better! What he needed was to go to the hospital! I didn't exactly take him to one, now did I? I'm not even sure how I ended up here.

"Carlos?" I asked again, more frantically than the first time.

"He's fine. He's worried about you, but he's fine. He's right down the hall," Camille answered.

"It's funny. The first words out of his mouth were, 'Where's Logan?' and the first words out of your mouth were, 'Where's Carlos?' I have to say that I'm kind of jealous; this is just going to make you and Carlos even closer than you already were," James commented.

It was true. The only other person who could possibly understand what I went through was Carlos. That was because he was right there with me when this ordeal with Sid's dad happened. Still though I was glad that James hadn't been there. Not that I was glad that Carlos was there. I mean I was because that meant I didn't have to go through the terrifying experience alone, but going through what Carlos and I went through is not something James or anyone should have to go through in the first place.

"Come on, James. You know that you and I are best friends," I said.

"Yeah, but you and Carlos…" he started to say.

"This isn't a competition, James. You, Carlos, and Kendall are all my best friends."

There were tears in James' eyes. I wasn't sure if it was because he still believed that Carlos and I were more of best friends than he and I. Or maybe it was something else. Seeing James cry made my eyes start to water. I hated seeing my best friends cry.

"Do you really mean that? That you and I are best friends, I mean," James said.

"Of course! Why would you ever doubt that?" I replied.

"I don't deserve your friendship, Logan. I'm such a jerk. I almost kissed your girlfriend. You and Camille broke up because of me. I didn't even apologize to you! I didn't even know you knew about it until Camille told me that she told you."

I dismissed what James was saying with a wave of my hand.

"That's all water under the bridge," I commented.

"What?" James asked in disbelief.

"I probably just overreacted like I always do. I mean it's not like you and Camille actually kissed! It's a non-issue. I was making a big deal out of something that never even happened in the first place. The two of you got caught up in the moment. The two of you were comforting one another. I don't know what happened, and I don't _want_ to know what happened. All that matters is that it _didn't_ happen. I trust you. I trust _both_ of you. I know the two of you would never do anything to intentionally hurt me like that. So…we're cool."

James and Camille traded shocked expressions with one another. This clearly wasn't the reaction they expected from me. What did they expect? Did they expect that I would punch James? Did they expect that I would yell at both of them? I mean I guess I _could_, but what would that accomplish? Yeah, I could hold a grudge against both of them, and every time I was around either one of them, I would be miserable and uncomfortable, they would be miserable and uncomfortable, and everyone else would probably be miserable and uncomfortable. Or I could let bygones be bygones.

"Is it okay if I hug you? I mean friends hug, right?" Camille remarked.

"You know who else hugs? Boyfriends and girlfriends. I would like to be your boyfriend again, Camille. That is, if it's okay with you," I stated, bashfully averting my gaze.

Camille threw her arms around me in a hug. She was careful not to hurt my injured shoulder. I guess that meant it was okay with her if I was her boyfriend.

"Don't leave me hanging, Camille. I take your hugging me as a 'yes.' I mean it _is_ a 'yes,' isn't it?" I asked.

"Yes, Logan! A million times yes!" Camille replied.

After surviving two near death experiences, there was something that I wanted to tell Camille. I should probably get it over with and tell her now. If I had learned anything from my two near death experiences, it was that you can't take the time you have with the people you care about for granted. If there's something you've been meaning to say, say it. It's better to put it out there while you can than to have words left unspoken.

My eyebrows started to sweat. My hands were shaking. I buried them underneath the sheets of my hospital bed hoping Camille wouldn't notice. My heart was racing. My pulse had accelerated. Forget butterflies. It felt like there were enormous dragons flapping around in my stomach. I took several deep breaths in succession. I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose.

_I can do this. I can do this. Don't chicken out now, Logan! Don't you dare!_

"Camille, there's something I've been meaning to say to you," I said in a voice so soft I wondered if she even heard me.

"I'm listening," she replied, pulling back from her hug, and gazing into my eyes waiting.

I wished she wouldn't do that. I hated being the center of attention. Her looking at me in anticipation didn't help matters any. My nerves were frayed. Maybe she should just turn around so that she wasn't facing me. Or maybe I should turn around so that I wasn't facing her. I could look at the wall. Or I could look at the ceiling. Anything but Camille, because that was way too difficult!

"Bleep! Blap! Bloop!" I said. Where did _that _come from?

I heard the sound of someone slapping their forehead. I think it was me. It could have been James. Or maybe it was both of us…

"_That_ is what you wanted to say to me?" Camille asked incredulously.

"No! Let me try again!" I retorted.

I pondered having James write what I wanted to say on cue cards, and having him subtly hold them up for me so I could see what I wanted to say, and actually say what I wanted to say.

_I can do this. I can do this._

"I…can't do this," I commented. Oops! Did I say that out loud?

"You're breaking up with me? But we just got back together!" Camille remarked, tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

"No, no, no! Not that this! This other this!"

"What other this?"

_Come on, Logan! If you can dress up as a prince and ride in on a fake horse to ask Camille out to the dance, then you can do this! This is a small potato compared to that!_

"Iloveyou!" I exclaimed, mushing all the words together and saying it faster than I had ever said anything in my life.

"I didn't catch that," Camille responded.

Now I really did slap my forehead. This time I was certain of it too.

"Camille," I whined. "Don't make me say it again! You saw how hard it was for me to say it the first time!"

"No, really. You said it so fast that I didn't understand what you said," she commented.

I heard James unsuccessfully try to stifle his laughter. Yeah, he was trying _real_ hard too! I sent a death glare in his general direction. I'm _so_ glad my discomfort was amusing to him!

"I. Love. You," I said slowly, making each word its own sentence.

"About time! It took you nearly dying twice for you to finally admit that to me! Oh, and I love you too, Logan!" she replied.

We both leaned in and shared a kiss with one another.

To Be Continued…

**A/N: Yeah…so that probably sucked…royally. Well, it looks like there won't be a Chapter 50. Why you ask? I just choked on the copious amount of fluff in this chapter! That's why! **


	50. The Good Luck Patrol

**A/N: The poll is closed, and my next project will be (drum roll, please)…Til I Forget About You. So here is a little teaser: Camille finally gets her big break. There are only a couple of problems. First of all, filming is in New York City. Secondly, filming could take months. She doesn't want to leave Logan behind, so she asks him to come with her. When forced to choose between his best friends and his girlfriend, who will Logan choose?**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything. I'm not making a profit by writing this. This is the last time I will say that…in this story. Um…yay?**

**Big Time Disaster**

_The Good Luck Patrol_

_Logan's POV_

I was finishing up washing dishes while Carlos was finishing off a third helping of breakfast. One good thing about living with Carlos was that you never had to worry about having leftovers in your refrigerator.

Carlos and I had been back at The Palm Woods for two weeks now. I no longer had to wear a sling. Just by looking at me and Carlos, no one would be able to physically tell that we had almost died at the hands of a psychopath a little more than two weeks ago.

Everything was good again. Well, almost everything. Kendall and James still weren't exactly getting along with one another. They barely ever spoke to one another. On the rare occasions they did, they gave one word answers or spoke in short, clipped sentences. In the sound booth at Rocque Records, the two of them even had to be recorded separately.

"What are we going to do about Kendall and James?" Carlos asked me.

"I don't know, but something has got to give. I don't know how much more I can take of the two of them not getting along," I replied.

Carlos slapped the table with his hand and held his index finger up in the air.

"This looks like a job for…" he started to say.

We stood back-to-back wearing our formal attire—black suit jacket, white tuxedo shirt, black necktie, black dress slacks, black dress shoes, shades, and white button with a black shamrock on it.

"The Good Luck Patrol!" We said in unison. We put our fingers together, and waggled them before saying in high-pitched voices, "Lucky!"

Carlos held his wrist communicator up to his face, before pretending to push a button on it. He made a static sound before speaking.

"Lucky Charm, you go get Kendizzle. I'll get Jamez, over," Carlos said.

I held my wrist communicator up to my face, pretended to push a button, and made a static sound before responding, "Copy that Rabbit's Foot, over."

Carlos went in one direction, and I went in another. I found Kendall in the bedroom that the four of us shared.

"What are you wearing?" he asked when he saw me enter the room. He wasn't sure what to make of my Good Luck Patrol uniform.

"There's a spider in the bathroom. Can you get rid of it for me? You know about my arachnophobia. I couldn't even watch _Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets _or _Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince_ for that very reason! Stupid Aragog!" I commented.

Kendall let out a frustrated sigh as he looked at me skeptically. He didn't know what I was up to, but because I was wearing my Good Luck Patrol uniform, he no doubt expected that I was up to something.

"You know, Logie, one of these days, you're going to have to get over your silly fear of spiders," Kendall told me.

I scoffed. "At least my fear is reasonable. Did you know that all spiders are venomous? Venom. That means poison. Besides, you're one to talk about 'silly' fears. This coming from the person who faints at the sight of a tiny paper cut on his finger," I replied.

"Hey! Do you want me to get rid of the spider or not?"

"Yes, please."

Kendall followed me as I led him into the bathroom. I let him enter first. He barely walked into the bathroom.

"I don't see a spider," he stated.

"You might have to actually walk _into_ the bathroom!" I replied.

Kendall rolled his eyes, and let out another frustrated sigh. However, he reluctantly walked further into the bathroom. I couldn't believe it. My plan was working perfectly.

"Where did you last see the spider?" Kendall asked.

"I think it was in the shower curtain," I answered.

As Kendall searched the shower curtain, I exited the bathroom, pulling the door shut behind me. The door knob had locks on both the inside and outside of the door, so I locked Kendall inside the bathroom.

"Hey! Not cool, Logan!" Kendall yelled, pounding his fists on the bathroom door.

"You're up, Rabbit's Foot," I said softly to myself.

XXXXX

_Carlos' POV_

I found James sitting in the lobby, his nose buried in the latest issue of "Pop Tiger" magazine. I leapt over the armrest of a recliner, and plopped down in the seat next to him.

"Whatcha doin'?" I asked.

"Reading. Finally finished feeding your face, I see," James replied, not even looking up from his magazine as he spoke to me.

I didn't think anything of James' remark. I was always the last one to finish eating at the dinner table. That was just because I ate more than everyone else—_way_ more. It's not my fault! I'm a growing boy. I need to eat.

"Ooh! Did you see that cool thing in the bathroom?" I asked, excitedly.

"What cool thing?" James replied, looking up from his magazine.

When it came to love for parties, and love for fun in general, out of all of my friends, James was like my equal. After all, we were the 'Hollywood Super Party Kings of Hollywood.' We definitely knew how to have a good time.

"Come on! I'll show you!" I answered.

James sighed.

"This better be worth it. I was in the middle of reading the latest interview with Dak Zevon," James said.

With James following me, I headed back to Apartment 2J. When we entered the apartment, James and I could hear Kendall shouting at Logan to open the door to the bathroom. Phase 1 must have been a success.

"Is that…Kendall I hear?" James asked, a confused look on his face.

Logan unlocked the door, opened it, and I pushed James inside. Logan closed the door, and locked it before either Kendall or James could get out. We gave each other a congratulatory high-five. Phase two was a success too.

"Score one for The Good Luck Patrol!" I commented.

Logan and I touched our fingers together and waggled them.

"Lucky!" We both said in high-pitched voices.

XXXXX

_James' POV_

I banged on the bathroom door with my fists.

"Hey! Let me out!" I shouted.

"Nope! Not until the two of you are best friends again!" Carlos yelled back.

I pressed my back against the door, and slid down until I was sitting on the floor. I looked over at Kendall and saw that he was sitting on top of the sink. I now knew what Carlos and Logan were trying to do, and I couldn't really blame them for trying, but they were wasting their time. I didn't want to be best friends with Kendall, and I'm sure he didn't want to be best friends with me either.

The two of us sat there trapped in the bathroom in an uncomfortable silence. I kept fidgeting. More than the cold tile floor was making me uncomfortable. Every now and then, I would glance over at Kendall. There were words trying to form on his lips, but he remained silent.

Outside the bathroom door, we could hear Carlos and Logan. They probably had their ears pressed against the bathroom door eavesdropping on us.

"Well, it looks like this could take a while. Hungry?" Logan asked.

"Always," Carlos replied.

Now why didn't that surprise me?

"I'll get the pizza bagels!" Logan said.

"I'll get the fish sticks!" Carlos exclaimed.

My stomach growled. Just my luck. Now the two of them were going to eat without us. I had no idea what time it was. I had no idea how long I had been locked in the bathroom with Kendall. I never wore a watch. One of the reasons was because Carlos always wore a watch, and I was almost always wherever Carlos was. The other reason was because I didn't want to get an ugly watch tan.

"So, how did Carlos manage to get you in here?" Kendall asked, surprising me by even talking to me.

"He said there was a cool thing in the bathroom," I answered. It sounded even more embarrassing saying it out loud.

"Ha! And you fell for that?"

I narrowed my eyes at Kendall who was pointing and laughing at me. I thought we were supposed to be patching things up? This wasn't helping.

"Oh yeah? Well, how did Logan get you in here?" I asked.

That stopped Kendall's laughing. It was pretty clear to me that Carlos and Logan were in on this together. They had used a divide and conquer strategy. Carlos had lured me into the bathroom. Logan had obviously lured Kendall into the bathroom.

"Logan said there was a spider in here he wanted me to get rid of," Kendall replied.

"Ha! And _you _fell for _that_?" I remarked, pointing and laughing at Kendall.

"Shut up!"

After I had gotten over how hilarious it was that Logan used his fear of spiders to trap Kendall in the bathroom, a silence fell over Kendall and I. Only this time, it wasn't _as_ uncomfortable.

I didn't know how Kendall felt about me, but the truth of the matter was that I missed my friendship with him. I missed being able to talk to him. I missed being able to do things with him. I missed being able to sing with him.

I guess a part of me blamed Kendall for Carlos getting kidnapped. A part of me blamed him for what Sid's dad did to Carlos. A part of me blamed Kendall for not stopping Logan from going to rescue Carlos. A part of me blamed Kendall for what Sid's dad did to Logan. A part of me still blamed Kendall for Logan getting stabbed at juvie.

It was weird. This was the longest I had ever held a grudge before. I hated it. I hated every single second of it. Kendall and I should have made up a _long_ time ago. Strangely enough, the more time that passed, the easier it became to just stay mad at Kendall. It was much easier than apologizing to him. Apologizing was for the weak and wrong, and I was neither of those things.

Who was I kidding? I wasn't without blame either. Kendall wasn't the only one who let Sid's dad kidnap Carlos right in front of us. I allowed that to happen to. What other choice did I have though? It was either that or watch Carlos die. I wasn't about to watch Carlos die. Kendall…he felt the same way. If Kendall was to blame for what Sid's dad did to Carlos and Logan, then so was I. Thinking about it, it didn't even make sense why I was even blaming Kendall for something that Sid's dad did. No one would have been able to stop Logan from rescuing Carlos. It was amazing how stubborn Logan could be—how stubborn we all could be. I wasn't able to stop Logan from going off after Carlos either. As far as Logan getting stabbed, Kendall didn't stab him; Camille didn't either. Logan, being the selfless guy he was, put the safety of Kendall and Camille before his own. Besides, Sid stabbed Logan, not anyone else.

My eyes filled with tears when the realization started to sink in. I had been such a jerk to Kendall. I had treated him so poorly. He didn't deserve to be treated how I had been treating him. I was just frustrated. Someone had to be held accountable for all the bad things that happened to Carlos and Logan. I blamed Kendall. He was the leader of our group. If anything goes wrong, the leader is the first one to get blamed. He didn't really do anything wrong though. He didn't really do anything that I wouldn't have done myself were I in his position. In fact, he had been trying to make things right with me for some time now, but I was stupid and stubborn, and chose to stay mad at him instead.

"I'm so sorry, Kendall. Can you forgive me? I've been such a jerk to you. I blamed you for everything when it wasn't your fault. I just hated that all this bad stuff was happening to Carlos and Logan, and I needed someone to blame. So I blamed you, but I shouldn't have. I miss your friendship, Kendall. I miss you," I said, with tears in my eyes.

Much to my surprise, my words brought Kendall to tears as well.

"I'm sorry too, James. I'm the one who should be asking for your forgiveness. I was so angry. I hurt two of my very best friends—you and Carlos. That was inexcusable. Logan was right. He said that I like being in control. I think that's why I snapped. I'm so used to calling the shots. Through all of this though, I wasn't calling the shots at all. Sid was. Sid's dad was. Camille's dad was. Carlos was. Carlos' dad was. Logan was. I was so helpless to do anything about it. Gustavo says that I'm like the leader, but I can't help but feel like I let Logan and Carlos down. I can't help but feel like I let myself down. I can't help but feel like I let you down. I've missed your friendship too, James. I miss being able to talk to you. I miss spending time with you. I miss singing together with you. I miss you," Kendall replied.

I stood up and walked over to him. I put one hand on his shoulder. With my other hand, I lifted up his chin so that he was looking at me.

"Hey, look at me. You didn't let me down. You didn't let any of us down. Okay? Carlos and Logan are back with us. They're safe. We're back together. That's all that matters," I told him.

"Friends?" Kendall asked hopefully, holding his hand up in the air for me to shake.

I not only shook his hand, but pulled him in for a bromantic hug.

"Friends," I responded.

From outside the door, I could hear Logan and Carlos.

"Well, it looks like their friendship is saved thanks to…The Good Luck Patrol!" Logan commented.

"Lucky!" Carlos and Logan said in matching high-pitched voices.

I rolled my eyes. I heard Kendall snicker. Logan and Carlos were so ridiculous with their whole Good Luck Patrol shtick. As much as I hated to admit it, if it hadn't been for them locking me in the bathroom with Kendall, Kendall and I might not be back to being best friends.

"Well done, Lucky Charm," Carlos commented.

"Not too shabby yourself, Rabbit's Foot," Logan responded.

"I think we should celebrate. How about we go on a double date? You and Camille and me and Stephanie."

"Sounds good."

I heard the front door open and then close shortly after. I tried the door knob on the bathroom door and found that it was still locked.

"Uh…guys? Hello? Somebody? Anybody?" I called out.

**The End**

**A/N: Okay, so that was probably the worst last chapter in the history of fanfiction. I'm sorry. I want to thank everybody from the bottom of my heart for making this the second most reviewed story in this fandom. When I came up with the idea for this, I never in my wildest dreams thought it would get over 900 reviews! Seriously, you all are awesome! You all have exceeded my expectations! You all are the best! I usually am pretty good at finishing anything I start, but if not for the overwhelming response this story got, I probably wouldn't have been motivated enough to see this story through to the end, and I have you all to thank for that! So thank you, thank you, thank you! **


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